


so dawn goes down to day

by eururong



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: 1950s, Angst, Greasers, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Physical Abuse, Shooting Guns, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eururong/pseuds/eururong
Summary: Car trouble leads Kyungsoo to Chanyeol and his greaser group, and Chanyeol leads him to question everything he knows.





	so dawn goes down to day

**Author's Note:**

> **Ticket No. 379**  
>  **Warnings:** angst, physical abuse and domestic violence, alcoholism, fighting and mentions of violence, shooting guns, brief homophobic language, swearing  
>  **Pairing:** Kyungsoo/Chanyeol  
>  **Time Period:** 1950's  
>  **Author's Note:** when i started writing this story back in the fall of 2017, as excited as i was about it, i hate no idea what shape or form it would take. prompter (and everyone!), i hope you can be happy or somewhat satisfied with what i've come up with. a HUGE thank you to the mods, who helped me through my worst sophomore slump EVER when i felt like giving up!! your advice saved this :)
> 
> title from the poem 'nothing gold can stay' by robert frost. also, catch the 'the outsiders' shoutout scene :)
> 
> for reference, this story takes place in 1956, in a non-descript town in the american midwest

It wasn’t a bad Thursday night.  

The air was beginning to gain its autumn chill, but it was still warm enough to sit outside Main Street Drug Store for hours without a bit of booze to keep warm. Chanyeol reaches into his jacket to pull out a cigarette and lights it, letting the haze of smoke blur his vision for a moment. Beside him, a loud whistle escapes from Jongdae, and he pushes himself away from the truck, sauntering away.  

When the smoke clears, Chanyeol can see what’s got his attention – or more like who – Seulgi Kang. She’s a cute little thing, a cheerleader only two years younger with a great body and a sunny disposition. She’s wearing a long, plaid skirt and a simple cream sweater, hair down in loose curls. Jongdae starts running his mouth as he tags along behind her, and Seulgi is drawn tighter to her friend’s side, arms linked together protectively. 

Chanyeol can’t help the snort that escapes when he sees how serious Jongdae is as he follows the two of them down the street. 

“Get bent, Kim!” Seulgi finally explodes, whipping around to glare at Jongdae with a face red in anger. Jongdae takes a few steps back; grease-stained hands held up pleadingly. Chanyeol can only see the back of his head, but he knows that Jongdae has his signature smirk gracing his face, so charming it was impossible to ignore and even harder to forget.  

Seulgi Kang, apparently, has more grit than most, because she turns and enters the diner without another glance in his direction. 

By the time Jongdae gets back to the truck, he’s scowling, with hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his denim jacket.  

“Aw, c’mon Jongdae, lighten up,” Chanyeol nudges him in the ribs with an elbow with a smile, “You got no business messin’ around with a girl like Seulgi anyway.” 

Jongdae’s shoulders hunch further, and he spits, barely missing the shoes of a middle-aged woman walking down the street. “Fuck off, Park. Give me a weed.” 

Reaching into his jacket again, Chanyeol hands over his last cigarette. Jongdae lights it up without thanks, not that Chanyeol expected it. He and Jongdae had been friends since they were in diapers - growing up on the same block, going to the same schools, hanging with the same guys. They had their way of expressing gratitude to each other, like playing wingman at the drive-in, a nice right-hook at someone without asking why, or late night meetings at the lot without a second thought.  

“Where the fuck is everyone?” Chanyeol asks after a beat, crushing his cigarette under the heel of his boot. 

“Probably trying to off some shit from the hardware store. Minseok mentioned wanting a new switchblade the other day.”  

The hardware store is at the end of the block but is close enough that Chanyeol can make out the four figures clad in black and navy blue sauntering out. _Ask, and you shall receive_.  

“You should see the blade Minseok managed to swipe,” Sehun giggles as soon as they’re in earshot, looking more excited than Minseok himself. Although Jongdae enjoyed stealing the most, it was no contest that Minseok was the best at it. A cute face, calm demeanor, and patience got him everywhere.  

Reaching into his back pocket, Minseok produces the blade in question. Chanyeol lets out a low whistle when he sees its Mother of Pearl handle and clean seven-inch blade. Most definitely nicer than anything they could ever afford to possess the right way. Prize safely in his pocket again, Minseok climbs into the bed of the truck. 

“If you want a ride back you better get in the truck!” Chanyeol yells, opening the driver’s side door and hopping in himself. Jongdae and Jongin join him in the cab, Yixing and Sehun with Minseok in the bed. It was still early, but a Thursday meant that for some of them, there was still school to be considered the following morning.  

Chanyeol drives slow enough down the main street to let Jongdae ogle and shout at some of the girls on the road, with Minseok joining for the particularly impressive ones. Sandwiched between Jongdae and Chanyeol, Jongin lets out an exasperated sigh every time his elder brother opens his mouth. Once off the main street, Chanyeol speeds up a bit, and everyone in the truck is quiet. Over the trees, the sky begins to take an orange tint as the sun sets.  

Driving away from the town center and towards the South side of town, the houses get smaller and more run down, the cars older and rustier. Despite all of that, South Side was their home, and the four city blocks between Kensington and Poplar was their turf.  

When they pull onto Kensington, Chanyeol and the group are welcomed by the surprise of a shiny, white 1954 Cadillac Eldorado. There’s a whoop from the bed of the truck when Minseok lays eyes on it, and his excitement is contagious. Chanyeol parks the truck across from the Cadillac, and the two boys standing in front of it begin to look nervous.  

They’re both small – one with fair, delicate features and dyed-brown hair, and the other more rugged, with black hair cropped short and a pair of dark, horn-rimmed glasses. Minseok jumps from the bed of the truck, landing lithely on the asphalt, and the brunet responds by taking a step forward and folding his arms across his chest. They’re matched pretty equal in size, as Minseok is narrow but built, and the stranger broad but skinny.  

Sensing the tension that’s building, Chanyeol opens the door and gets out of the cab, Jongin close behind him. 

“What the fuck do you hoods want?” The brunet asks, jaw set in anger. Behind him, the other boy’s eyes dart wildly between the group, though he says nothing.  

“Who the fuck do you think you’re calling a hood, you fuckin’ duper?” Sehun yells from the truck.  

“Sehun, cut the gas,” Jongin hisses from beside Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol turns and looks over his shoulder and sees the hatred in Sehun’s eyes. There are plenty of ways to rile up the kid, more than Chanyeol could keep track of, but the easiest way was to call him a hood. Yixing is beside him in the bed of the truck, now standing, and though his face is expressionless, the hands jammed into his pocket make Chanyeol wonder if he has a fist around his knife. 

Deciding to use his body to block the view between the brunet and his friends, Chanyeol takes a step to the side. Both of the strangers only tense further, no doubt intimidated by Chanyeol’s size. 

“Nice car like that and two kids in cable-knit don’t usually make appearances this side of town,” Chanyeol laughs, “What’re you guys doin’ over here?” 

The boy with the black hair fiddles with a button on his sweater, looking self-conscious. The silence drags out for just a beat too long before he speaks. “Something wrong with the car.” Given his small size, Chanyeol’s surprised at how deep his voice is.  

“I can take a look at it,” Minseok offers, giving the two a small smile, “If you want.” 

From the brunet, it draws out a barking laugh and an eye roll. Taking another step forward, he looks even angrier than before. “Yeah, let you look at it so you greasers can fuckin’ steal it? No thanks.” 

Jongin takes a breath before speaking, “Listen, it’s not like that. Minseok, my friend… He works for Sinclair’s gas station. You know it, don’t you? So he knows what he’s doin’. Unless the both of you want to leave your car here and walk back to the North Side.” 

“Please take a look,” The black-haired boy says, sliding his glasses off his face and pocketing them. His friend raising his eyebrows in shock. Silently, he pops the hood of the car and steps to the side. Minseok goes around the other boy quickly, with Chanyeol following a second later.  

“Nice car,” Chanyeol comments and turns to the boy with a smirk, “Is it yours?” 

He’s short enough that he needs to tilt his head to meet Chanyeol’s eyes, and when he responds Chanyeol can’t look away from his plush, heart-shaped lips, “Yes. Well, no. It’s my step-father’s.” The boy turns away then, shoulders drawn up against the cold gust of wind that blows through. 

“Jongdae,” Minseok calls from where he’s bent over the engine, “Bring my toolbox and come take a look!” 

“No,” Jongdae whines with his feet up on the dashboard of the truck, looking bored as stares at his reflection in the side mirror and fixes his pompadour, “Have Jongin get it for you.” 

With apologetic eyes, Minseok turns and faces Jongin, who retrieves the toolbox from the bed of the truck without another word. For a few minutes, Chanyeol watches over Minseok’s shoulder. The sky continues to get dark at an alarming pace, a real sign of autumn approaching. Losing his light, Minseok turns to the brunet and nudges his toolbox with his foot. 

“Take the flashlight and give me some light, huh?”  

The other boy is sitting on the curb with Jongin in silence, and Chanyeol joins them. 

“Whats your name?” Chanyeol asks. The boy meets him with a steady but unreadable gaze. 

“I’m Kyungsoo Do,” He answers and looks at his friend’s back briefly, “And my friend is Baekhyun Byun.” 

“Nice to meet you. Chanyeol Park. This quiet one is Jongin Kim, and the one working on your dad’s car is Minseok Kim. Not related. The kid in my truck's cab is Jongdae Kim. Not related to Minseok, but _is_ related to Jongin, although Jongin kind of hates it. And the two in the back are Yixing Zhang and Sehun Oh. Sehun’s my brother.” 

The boy manages to follow the introduction, looking at everyone in turn as Chanyeol had explained. His eyes linger on Sehun, and Chanyeol answers before he can even ask. “Yeah, Sehun’s my brother, but we’re not blood-related.” 

Kyungsoo looks a bit bashful at having been found out, training his eyes on his loafers. It doesn’t bother Chanyeol or Sehun much anymore, having answered questions more times than they can count in the years Sehun has been with Chanyeol’s family.  

“He’s not my dad by the way.”

“Huh?”

Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol with wide eyes and his jaw tight with tension. “You said my dad’s car. He’s not my dad.”

A silence settles between them with Minseok’s tinkering and Sehun and Yixing’s quiet conversation providing background noise. Chanyeol supposes he should feel awkward, sitting next to this tiny little rich kid in his clean and pressed clothes. For some reason, he doesn’t, and the set of Kyungsoo’s shoulders hints that he doesn’t either. Minseok works until the sun has entirely set, and the sky has turned a dark blue.  

“Finished,” Minseok sighs, taking a step back and closing the hood of the car. He turns to where Kyungsoo is sitting on the curb and says, “Try starting her up.”  

Kyungsoo stands, brushing gravel and dirt from the seat of his pants. He slides into the convertible and turns the key in the ignition, and the engine starts with a healthy purr. Minseok’s smile grows, and Chanyeol can feel himself grinning as well. Baekhyun is already seated in the passenger’s seat before Kyungsoo can even speak. 

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”  

"Don't worry about it," Minseok says, wiping his grease-stained hands on his jeans, "Just don't ever say greasers never did nothing for you." He closes his toolbox and heads back to the pick-up, Jongin following after giving Baekhyun and Kyungsoo a small smile and a nod.

The stare Kyungsoo gives Chanyeol is unreadable, but his eyes have him rooted where he stands. Baekhyun turns and offers Kyungsoo a curious look, one that says _why haven't we already driven off left these greasers behind_? 

“You play ball, Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol blurts. He surprises himself when he says it, and he scratches at the back of his head. 

Kyungsoo is still indecipherable but gives Chanyeol a small shrug. “I guess? I’m alright.”

“We play around here on Saturdays. The intersection of Vallaro and Killington. Stop by if you want.”

The honk of the truck's horn, courtesy of Jongdae, pulls Chanyeol away from Kyungsoo.

"Let's go, Park!" Jongdae barks and Chanyeol hurries to take his place in the driver's seat. The Cadillac rumbles away, taillights growing ever smaller and fainter in Chanyeol's rear-view mirror.

No one says a word about the strange tension in the truck, but Chanyeol knows it'll come back to haunt them eventually. The only thing he can hope is that it wouldn't come to fists or feet. Yixing is the first to exit the truck, raising a hand in silent farewell.

Minseok, Jongdae, and Jongin tumble out at the same time, with a _See you fuckers later_ from Jongdae and a quiet exchange of words between Jongin and Sehun. The cab now empty, Sehun moves to sit next to Chanyeol but says nothing the rest of the drive home. When Chanyeol parks the car, Sehun is out and halfway to the front door before Chanyeol can even get his door open.

Trudging up the stairs to the porch, Chanyeol begins to think about what he can say to appease his moody brother, who's already escaped to their room when Chanyeol enters the house. His father sits on the living room sofa, a few empty beer cans on the floor at his feet, head lolled back and snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Chanyeol tiptoes past him and into the kitchen, where his mother stands at the sink washing dishes.

"Hey Ma," He greets, reaching into the icebox to grab a beer before placing a kiss on her cheek.

"You all missed dinner," Mrs. Park reproaches in an even tone, and Chanyeol knows she's not really upset about it, "And Sehun stomped off to the bedroom without even saying a word. What happened?" _Now_ she's upset, her tone short and clipped.

"There were a couple of kids... Dupers, honestly. Had a real nice car but it wouldn't start, so we stopped to help them out. Took a while," Chaneyol's eyes move from his mother to the bedroom door down the hall, wondering what he can even say to his mother about Sehun when he's not sure himself, "Sehun didn't like them."

A quiet hum is all he gets from his mother, who's drying the last dish. "Don't drink more than that one beer or your father will skin you, Chanyeol. Talk to your brother."

By the color of his mother's voice, Chanyeol knows the conversation is over. He watches her put away the dishes and prepare for bed, and he finishes his beer in silence.

When Chanyeol enters the bedroom, the lights are off, and Sehun's buried deep enough in his bedding that the only thing visible is the hair on the crown of his head. With a sigh, Chanyeol changes into his bedclothes and climbs into his bed, turned on his side to face Sehun. The irregular pattern of Sehun's breathing lets Chanyeol know he's still awake, but Sehun stays still and quiet.

After a few moments, Chanyeol speaks up, voice rough, "What’re you so mad about?” 

For a moment, Sehun's breathing stops and Chanyeol thinks, hopes, that he'll say something. But nothing comes, and the minutes pass until sleep overtakes them both.

***

The next morning, it’s like nothing had ever happened. Sehun’s moodiness is gone, and he’s back to his typical, chatty self, even sweet-talking their mother into cooking him an extra slice or two of bacon. He spends forever and a day combing back his hair, entering the bathroom before Chanyeol and exiting long after. 

“Sehun, hurry the fuck up,” Chanyeol yells from the living room, swiping a pack of his father’s cigarettes for the day, “We’re going to be late.” 

Mrs. Park’s head pokes around the kitchen corner, a frown pulling at her lips. “You watch your mouth, Chanyeol.” 

“Yeah, watch your mouth, Chanyeol,” Sehun smirks when he finally emerges with a perfectly coiffed jelly roll. In the close confines of the truck cab on the way to school, Chanyeol can smell the product in Sehun’s hair. 

But school doesn’t last long. 

During the short break between third and fourth period, Jongin drags Sehun to Chanyeol while he’s sitting in the courtyard, his hand twisted into the neck of Sehun’s white t-shirt. There’s a fresh red mark on Sehun’s cheek, and Chanyeol knows it will mottle and bruise in a few days. More than anything, Jongin looks defeated, probably tired from continually dealing with his best friend’s mood swings and desire for a brawl. 

“What happened?” Chanyeol asks, putting out his cigarette under the heel of his boot. He doesn’t ask Sehun, whose lips are pursed tight in anger, but Jongin.  

“The punk Jungkook mouthed off and got into a little scuffle with Sehun,” He holds a hand up to stop Chanyeol from speaking when he sees his open mouth. If Jungkook spoke first, then Sehun had thrown the first fist, “Not a lot of people saw. Jungkook got a good punch in too, so I convinced him just to keep his mouth shut about it.”  

Chanyeol stands and puts a hand on the back of Sehun’s neck, squeezing slightly. Sehun’s furrowed brow relaxes after a few moments, and he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. 

“Alright. It’s Friday anyway. Let’s go to Sinclair’s and see Minseok and Jongdae?” Chanyeol suggests, looking at Sehun and Jongin. He knew that Sehun wouldn’t get anything done if he went back to class like this anyway. At the suggestion, Sehun looks much happier, the darkness in his eyes fading. Jongin seems pleased as well, and Chanyeol knows it’s because he’s never truly cared for school either.  

They hop the side fence and climb into the truck, the radio blasting on the way to the gas station. When they pull up, Jongin reaches over and lays on the horn. It startles Jongdae enough that he jumps and bangs the back of his head on the hood of the car he was working on. The entire car erupts in laughter, and Chanyeol can’t stop until he’s wiping tears from his eyes.  

The three of them - Chanyeol, Jongin, and Sehun - sit on the side of the lot and watch Minseok and Jongdae work. They listen to Elvis and Jongin tries out a few of his own dance moves when Chanyeol encourages him to hop up on the bed of the truck.  

“Why don't we swing by and get Xing and head to the drive-in? It's Friday, after all,” Minseok asks around five, wiping hands dark with grease on the rag he kept in his overalls.  

After a quick detour to Yixing’s house, they head to the drive-in in the central part of town, Busch's. Busch’s was preferred to the other drive-in at the very south of town. That’s where the _real_ hoods hung out, who went to the drive-in wasted, itching for a fight. Going to Busch’s meant they could avoid getting into a brawl, and because a nice hole in the fence near the back of the lot could save them the dollar fee.

Chanyeol is the first on the ground, pulling himself through the gap with only the smallest difficulty when his coat gets caught. As always, they're quick enough that no one even notices them at the edge of the drive-through. On the way to the seats at the back of the field, they wander in and out of the rows of cars.

At the back of the drive-in are a few rows of seats, the group sitting in the row furthest front. Jongdae immediately puts his feet in Minseok’s lap, who scowls and shoves him off. Chanyeol sits at the very end, next to Sehun. None of them have any idea what movie is playing, and they don’t care. 

Sehun and Jongin fall into conversation with each other, as do Jongdae and Minseok, with Yixing quietly sitting in. It would be less disruptive for them to sit in the empty lot near their neighborhood, or to huddle in the back of the truck to chat, but the change of scenery is always nice. 

Whatever movie they’ve managed to sneak themselves into, it’s pretty fantastic. Some foreign man is flying around in a giant hot air balloon, seeming to float between whatever countries whenever he wants. 

Chanyeol tries to think of where he would go, if he had his own, and can’t even think of a single country he’d want to go to. How pathetic. He can’t even dream right.

Abruptly, Chanyeol stands and asks, “Anyone want some pop or snacks?”

“Here,” Minseok mutters, pulling some coins from his jacket pockets, “Get something for the kids, Yeol.”

“Thanks, Minseok,” Chanyeol smiles, shoving the change into the pocket of his leather jacket and turning away to go to the concession stand. He ignores the dirty looks some people cast in his direction as he goes past. 

Usually, Chanyeol would be rowdy like the rest of the group, too. He and Jongdae had managed to weather out a six-month ban at the drive-in the year previous for noise and fighting. But something was holding Chanyeol back tonight. 

Thumbing at the change bestowed to him by Minseok, Chanyeol let his mind drift again to a hot air balloon soaring across the sky. Wind in his hair, troubles below his feet, miles of possibility ahead of him….

“Surprise seeing you here,” A deep voice behind Chanyeol startles him from his daydreaming. He turns to see the boy from yesterday, Kyungsoo, standing with hands in his pockets and a small smile. His hair is carefully coiffed today, parted to the side and swept back. He pushes up his glasses before asking, “Did you guys come in your truck?”

“No. Just….” Chanyeols pauses for a moment, wonders how a kid with money like Kyungsoo would react to hearing about someone sneaking in through a hole in a fence to save a few coins, “Walked here.”

Kyungsoo nods, and then a silence overcomes them both. Chanyeol shuffles ahead in line, eyeing the scuffed toes of his boots. When it’s his turn to order, he gets them a few bags of popcorn and drinks. 

“What do you think of the movie?” Kyungsoo asks as they wait for their orders to be filled. His voice is hesitant, unsure like he’s not sure if the conversation is possible or wanted.

“I’m a bit lost, but. The idea of a hot air balloon is nice. Being able to go wherever you want to.”

“Where would you go?”

“I’m not sure,” Chanyeol answers honestly, “I’m not great at geography and all that. Just somewhere far away. Somewhere not here.”

Kyungsoo gives a short nod and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, brow furrowing. “Me too. Any place is good, y’know?”

“What do you have to get away from?” And though he tries to keep his voice light, some bitterness seeps through to color his words. Kyungsoo looks at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Chanyeol wonders why he’s begun to turn red. 

Finally, he says quietly, barely above a whisper, “Things aren’t easy.”

Chanyeol reaches for his popcorns and sodas when they’re placed on the counter, letting out a scoff. “What could be hard? Nice car, nice clothes, you probably go to a nice school. Mom and dad, nice house. What’s hard?” Chanyeol has no idea why his words sound so sharp or why he’s letting the back of his mouth turn sour. Kyungsoo’s cheeks have darkened further.

“I told you he’s not my dad,” Kyungsoo meets Chanyeol’s eyes, “And what you see is only a part. Like that jacket and beat-up truck are only a part of you. And don’t you hate when people judge you on that? At least your friends do.”

Chanyeol doesn't have much to say to that, just bites on the flesh of his lower lip as he looks down at Kyungsoo, who despite his blush, doesn't let his face doesn't betray any emotions he could be hiding. There's almost a glint of challenge in his eyes when he looks up at Chanyeol.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Chanyeol asks suddenly, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat and shifting his weight. He can’t even quite explain why he’s just offered, "We're sitting at the back in the seats."

"No, but..." Kyungsoo trails off, reaching for his food and drinks when they're placed out for him, "Thanks."

With his hands full, Chanyeol turns on the heel of his boot at that and makes his way to the door of the concessions stand, walking through without looking back again at Kyungsoo.

The group's managed to settle down quite a bit, and Minseok's leaning back to whisper to some girl in the row behind them, who looks to be fighting off a smile. Chanyeol distributes the popcorn and drinks, and everyone gets rowdy once again. Jongdae roars in approval and takes a handful of popcorn to throw at Jongin and Sehun, who threaten to pour their coke down his shirt before Yixing convinces them to sit down.

"I paid for all that! Don't fucking waste it!" Minseok scolds them, looking quite cross before he turns back to the girl.

Chanyeol lets Sehun lean against him throughout the movie. Sehun's too big now to lean against him comfortably, really, but he always manages to make it work somehow, head resting against the crook of Chanyeol's shoulder. They finish the movie in relative silence, with only the occasional griping from Jongdae and Jongin to break it.

When the movie finishes, Minseok stands and announces he's going to walk the girl home, off with only a wink and a wave. The rest of the group lounges on the seats for a bit, even though it's the last show and they're expected to leave. Jongin and Sehun are arguing over the most recent release of some comic book, debating on whether the main enemy is truly dead or not.

"You've been quiet, Chanyeol," Jongdae says, jumping over chairs to sit next to him. Yixing follows.

"Have I?" Chanyeol hums, knowing full well he's been all inside his head all night thinking about that kid Kyungsoo.

"What're you thinking about?" Yixing asks, his smile deepening the dimple on his cheek.

"Or who?" Jongdae follows up.

"Not thinking of anyone or anything, really," Chanyeol murmurs, looking away from the two of them and noting a couple in the distance walking in their general direction.

"Chanyeol, you're a pretty simple guy," Jongdae states, and Yixing nods in agreement, "Which isn't good or bad, here or there. Just it's easy to read ya. So, y'know, if there's something..."

_If there's something, tell me. If there's something, let's chat._

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Chanyeol smiles at Jongdae and Yixing. The couple is close enough now that Chanyeol can see their faces - Kyungsoo and Seulgi Kang’s friend. He's missing his glasses now and the dim light at the drive-in chiseling his face. Jongdae notices Chanyeol's eyes have focused on something over his shoulder, and he turns to look for himself. Just as quickly, he whips his head back around to look back at Chanyeol.

"That fucking kid from yesterday is with Wendy. Are you fucking shittin' me?" Jongdae hisses, moving to jump to his feet before Yixing stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder. Jongin and Sehun have been pulled from their conversation as well, staring as Kyungsoo and Wendy, approach.

Kyungsoo looks uncomfortable, standing a reasonable distance away, hands in his pockets. Wendy half-hides herself, tucked behind Kyungsoo's shoulder, arm looped around his tightly. She’s wearing a soft pink dress with flowers along the edge of her skirt and on her neck, with a satin sash accentuating her small waist. She looks good next to Kyungsoo in his white sweater and grey slacks. 

It feels like something’s biting at the inside of Chanyeol’s stomach.

"I just wanted to say thanks again," Kyungsoo says, "For yesterday."

"Minseok isn't here. He's the one who fixed your damn car," Jongdae laughs, moving to his feet, "So you didn't need to come over here."

With a nod, Kyungsoo swallows harshly, eyes darting back and forth between the group.

"You coming tomorrow?" Chanyeol asks, hearing the surprised sharp intake of breath from Sehun at his side. Kyungsoo nods. "Good. Know where it is?"

"No, not really. But I can figure it out."

"All right. Be there around one."

With another curt nod, Kyungsoo turns and leaves, Wendy at his side. They haven't even taken ten steps before Chanyeol's shoulder is punched by Sehun, throbbing with the impact. Sehun's face is furious, scrunched up tight and pink with anger.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" He shouts, jumping to his feet with his hands curled into fists at his sides, "The fuck did you invite him for?" The rest of the group says nothing, but their eyes are questioning as well.

"Why not? He came to say thanks again! He doesn't seem like a bad guy."

"He called us hoods!"

"No, his friend called us hoods,” Chanyeol says slowly, pleadingly, trying not to upset Sehun any further, “I don't doubt his friend is an asshole, Sehun. But this kid seems like he could be nice."

Chest rising and falling rapidly, Sehun looks like he's either going to sucker punch Chanyeol or burst into tears. Jongin stands too, one hand on Sehun's waist and the other resting on the back of his neck. Jongin pulls him away then, walking towards the exit, leaving the rest of them no choice but to follow.

The ride back to the neighborhood was tense, with Jongin and Sehun sharing the bed of the truck. They're laying down, so they can't be seen in the rearview mirror, and if they're speaking it's too quiet to be heard. Yixing is sitting between Chanyeol and Jongdae, humming a soft tune under his breath since the radio is off.

"What you said earlier could be true," He says to Chanyeol when they're stopped at a red light, just outside the South side of town, "About the guy being nice."

"I hear a but somewhere in there," Chanyeol rolls his eyes. He's not keen to keep talking about this, especially not tonight.

"But. Think about Sehun. He doesn't want the guy around, and it'll upset him. And Sehun is family."

"The kid needs to realize he can't always be flippin’ out at people," Chanyeol counters, trying to keep his voice down, "He needs to start controlling himself better before he goes out into the world and his ass ends up in the cooler just like his father."

"I won't argue with you there," Jongdae drawls, elbow on the door, looking up at the sky as they drive along, "Kids got some issues.”

Chanyeol's grip on the steering wheel tightening, "Can it, Jondae."

Jongdae gives a salute and peeks up at the rearview mirror. Sehun and Jongin are still nowhere in sight.

***

Sehun hasn't said anything since returning home, going straight for a shower and curling under his sheets with comic books and a flashlight. Chanyeol let him, puttering around the room before going out to the living room to watch The Tonight Show with their father.

When Chanyeol retires to his bed, it only takes a few moments before Sehun is pulling back the covers to crawl in with him.

"You're gettin’ way too old and too big to keep doin’ this, Sehun," Chanyeol whispers, fighting back a laugh as Sehun makes himself comfortable, tucking his head underneath Chanyeol's chin, "I'm not just talking about the whole cuddling thing, either."

"I know," Sehun mutters, barely audible where his mouth is pressed against Chanyeol's chest.

"Wanna tell me what's been goin' on?" Sehun shakes his head in response, but lets Chanyeol drape an arm around his waist, "Well then, I'll tell you. I saw Kyungsoo when I was getting popcorn. We talked about the movie a bit. About having a hot air balloon."

"About getting away from everything?"

"Yeah, exactly,” Chanyeol chuckles, not even surprised that Sehun would know exactly how he would feel when he laid his eyes on that balloon, “He said... Kyungsoo said he wanted one too. He wanted to get away from all the shit. So, I asked what the hell he had to get away from with a life like his. Do you know what he said to me?"

"Nothing. That he had nothing to get away from. Probably ain't got a dead mom or a dad in the cooler or anyone too drunk to wipe their own ass -"

Chanyeol cuts Sehun off before he can say anything more, "No. He told me things are tough for everyone. You only see what's on the outside. You hate when we get judged on that, so why do it to them?"

Sehun doesn't answer him, but Chanyeol can feel his jaw clench tight. He pulls him tighter in response, feeling Sehun go rigid for a moment before relaxing. Chanyeol runs his hand over the back of Sehun’s head, hair damp and soft without all the usual product. It’s like Sehun’s taken off all his armor.

"Today was a long day. Let's sleep, Sehun."

"Good night, Yeol."

Before he sleeps, Chanyeol thinks back to the feeling in his gut when he saw Kyungsoo approach with Wendy. It was sharp and sudden like the sting of a wasp. Chanyeol thinks it was probably jealousy at seeing Kyungsoo so put together with a beautiful girl on his arm, living a life Chanyeol could only dream of. A bitter, nasty feeling it was.

***

“It bounced twice!” Jongin shouts, throwing down his bat and stalking towards his brother, who had thrown the offending ball. All he gets from Jongdae is a snicker and a shrug, though when he gets closer, he does put his arms out to keep his younger brother at bay. Taller and stronger, Jongin could be a force to be reckoned with.

“I’m not the one callin’ the rules,” Jongdae sing-songs, pointing his thumb at Yixing, who’s leaning against a parked car, “Get frosted with Xing, not me.”

Yixing doesn’t look bothered when Jongin rounds on him because the ball most definitely did not bounce once. If anything, Yixing is a fair ump. 

“Stop being a sore loser, Jongin!” Sehun calls out, before laughing at his friend’s anger. Sehun could be like that – he’d laugh at you for one thing but if you turned around and gave him a taste of his own medicine he’d sulk for days. 

Jongin bites back whatever retort he has and squats to sit on the curb while Chanyeol picks up the bat. Jongdae winds back his arm to throw the ball but pauses, focusing on something over Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol turns to look and sees Kyungsoo standing at the edge of the intersection. 

He looks so small, smaller than he had before, dressed in a sweater too big for him and a pair of well-worn jeans. Everyone is silent as he walks forward, and it’s not until he gets closer that Chanyeol can see, despite the thick frame of Kyungsoo's glasses, that he’s sporting a shiner on his right eye, the delicate skin just starting to discolor and swell.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says tentatively, looking more and more unsure of himself as the seconds pass. His face pales, and it seems like his hands are trembling when he slips them into the pockets of his jeans. 

Jongdae throws the ball and Chanyeol can hear it bounce against the ground over and over. But Chanyeol can’t look away from Kyungsoo. The bruise on his eye wasn’t there the night before, and Chanyeol wants to ask Kyungsoo what happened. But first things first.

“Glad you made it!” Chanyeol exclaims, ignoring Jongdae as he picks up the ball again and moves to throw it even though Chanyeol apparently isn’t playing. Sehun looks murderous.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo murmurs, but he looks even more unsure of himself. One of his hands leaves his pocket to nervously touch his glasses and brush the tender flesh around his eye, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Couldn’t find it?” 

A sheepish smile crosses Kyungsoo’s face, and he nods slightly. From the corner of his eye, Chanyeol sees Yixing pass the ball back to Jongdae. He whips around and adjusts his stance and manages to crack the ball hard enough that it flies past the second manhole. 

“That’s a triple!” Minseok shouts happily, giving Chanyeol a high-five as he puts the bat down. 

Chanyeol turns to Kyungsoo with the bat outstretched towards him, “Take a swing, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head vigorously, the tips of his ears going pink as he leans against a car, still a few paces away from the rest of the group. From behind him, Chanyeol can hear Sehun scoff. 

He knows what Sehun is thinking – it doesn't make sense for Kyungsoo to have come out if he's not even going to play. 

"Here, Minseok," Chanyeol says, shoving the bat in Minseok's hands and walking to stand close to Kyungsoo. He can feel Sehun's eyes on his back, dark and unpleasant. Jongdae immediately starts trash talking Minseok as he steps up to the manhole cover, his cackling laughter diffusing some of the tension in the air. 

"Thanks for inviting me," Kyungsoo whispers after a few moments of silence between himself and Chanyeol as they watch Minseok hit a few fouls that bounce off of car windows. Chanyeol nods. “Why did you invite me, anyway?”

Shifting his weight, Chanyeol shoves his hands deep into his pockets. When he looks over at Kyungsoo the wind is ruffling his hair, eyes curious and a bit confused. His cheeks are still a bit pink from his earlier embarrassment. He doesn’t know what to say to Kyungsoo because he doesn’t know why himself. It was just a hunch, a feeling, an instinct. Still waiting for an answer, Kyungsoo stares expectantly.

“Dunno, just a feeling,” Chanyeol admits.

Looking back at the game, Kyungsoo smiles softly. “Well, thanks. I just moved here a few months ago. So doing something like this is nice.”

“You and your North Side friends don’t play stickball?”

“I honestly don’t have many friends. Some guys at school and Baekhyun.”

Minseok’s finally struck out and suffers through a long series of expletives from Jongin. Sehun laughs at his best friend, doubled over with crinkled eyes. Jongdae’s first up at bat, swinging it around wildly. When Jongin begins to argue with Minseok over who should pitch, Jongdae turns the bat on his younger brother and starts to swat at Jongin’s ankles and calves.

“Chanyeol!” Jongin whines, “You should pitch! Minseok’s a fuckin’ punk!”

“Hey!” Minseok joins in the half-hearted abuse, shoving at Jongin’s shoulders. Sehun laughs even louder.

“Next one! Let Minseok pitch, he ain’t half bad!”

In the end, they all know Minseok was going to pitch anyway as the oldest. Yixing chuckles from where he’s leaned against a car, pulling Sehun by the scruff of his neck. Taking his place at the manhole, Jongdae wiggles his bat and his backside - his face is turned away, but Chanyeol does not doubt that he’s making the most ridiculous face at Minseok and Jongin to try and throw them off their game.

Shaking his head fondly, Chanyeol looks back at Kyungsoo. He’s eyeing the commotion with something close to wistfulness in his eyes. He looks so small, so gentle, and so hopeful that it knocks into Chanyeol like a heavy fist. When Kyungsoo meets his eyes, Chanyeol forces a smile to his face, hoping it looks half-believable. 

"You could play you know. On me, Jongin, and Minseok's team," Chanyeol offers. When he turns to look at Kyungsoo, attention falling to the mottling skin around Kyungsoo's wide eye. The color of Kyungsoo's ears turns from pink to red. 

"Yeah, it's probably for the best not to be on your brother's team, I guess," Kyungsoo's voice has an edge of both humor and bitterness to it. Chanyeol can't blame him, looking at Sehun and seeing the anger in his eyes when he looks back. 

They play ball until the sun sets and the streetlights turn on, the darkness coming earlier and earlier as the days pass. Soon, it'll be too cold to play much ball at all. Kyungsoo never steps up to bat, and never moves too far away from the car he's leaning against. He cheers whenever Chanyeol hits the ball, and laughs at some of the cracks that Jongdae makes at those up at bat. It's an odd afternoon, to be sure, but Chanyeol still finds himself smiling at the end of it. 

"You ain't driving today?" Minseok asks Kyungsoo when he turns to walk back to the North side of town, in the opposite direction as the rest of them. With a dark look in his eye, Kyungsoo shakes his head and raises a hand goodbye. His shoulders are curled against the evening chill, making him look even smaller than before.

Jongin, still exuberant from their earlier win over Sehun, Jongdae, and Yixing, wraps an arm around Chanyeol's shoulder and rubs the top of his head against Chanyeol's cheek. With a laugh, he lets his arm drape around Jongin's waist, ever grateful for how smoothly Jongin showed his affection. 

"Whaddya think happened to his eye?" Jongin whispers. 

With a barking laugh, Sehun asks, "Who cares?" 

"Stop being so goddamn salty already, Sehun!" Jongin hisses, slipping from Chanyeol's hold even as he tries to cling to Jongin. Chanyeol couldn’t let them fight because Sehun needed Jongin more than Chanyeol or Jongdae or anyone else. With a tight fist in the collar of Jongin's denim jacket, Jongdae yanks him away from the group and down the first side street on their left. 

"We'll take the long way!" Jongdae says, his voice sounding cheerful but strained. He doesn't let go of Jongin's collar, until they're too far down the road to be seen, the dark of the night swallowing them. 

The rest of the walk is quiet, with Yixing and Minseok talking a bit about the football season. Chanyeol jumps in when he can, the tension from the afternoon leaving him feeling itchy. It was like his skin had suddenly become too tight and too loose all at once, and he would do anything to make it fit right again. He probably laughs too loud, says too many unnecessary comments, but Yixing and Minseok take it in stride.

At home, Sehun shuts himself off again, going to their room and shutting the door without greeting their mother or father. 

"He still upset over that boy?" Chanyeol's mother asks from the kitchen, where she's finishing up dinner.

"What boy? Junmyeon?" Their father chimes in, face hidden by his newspaper. The television is turned up so loud that he's shouting over it. With a groan, Chanyeol goes to the bedroom because the two of them were just going to make it worse. 

His fingers have found their way to his hair, uncaring about the product that coats it. "Sehun," He says to the lump in his brother's bed, "Sehun, look at me." 

"No."

"Jesus Christ! Stop giving him a hard time!" Chanyeol rips the covers off of Sehun, trying to bite back the anger in his chest and failing. It's bubbling out, raw and ugly and desperate. Sehun could be so stubborn, so mean, and Chanyeol wouldn’t put up with this shit anymore. 

"How do you know?" Sehun retorts, his eyes wild and shining with the first threat of tears. "How do you know he's a good kid? He's probably just trying to fuck with us and make us like him before he finds other duper friends and cuts out!" 

So that's what it was. Letting someone new in, only to have them fuck off and leave you high and dry. Sehun had too many people who had done that to him. That fear was so real, so ingrained that Chanyeol should have been able to see this coming a mile away. Should have, but didn’t. 

“We don’t need anyone else. We don’t need someone like him.”

The fact Kyungsoo came from the North side and had money was just the cherry on top. A new person and an outsider to boot. 

"If every time you meet someone you just... assume they're going to cut out on you, how're you ever supposed to make new friends?" Chanyeol asks, his voice softening unconsciously. Sehun looks away, a tear sliding down his cheek. He raises a hand to wipe it away bitterly. Chanyeol takes a moment to sit down next to Sehun on the bed, close but not touching. 

With Sehun still silent, Chanyeol speaks, “People’ve fucked up on you a lot, kid, but you can’t keep doing this.”

A few more tears fall from Sehun’s eyes before he shoves at Chanyeol’s shoulder just enough for him to get the picture. Chanyeol retreats to take a shower, letting the water get hot enough that his skin turns pink and sensitive, washing the day down the drain.

***

“Kyungsoo? Is that you?” His mother’s voice calls from the kitchen, just as Kyungsoo closes the front door behind him. With his breath held, Kyungsoo takes in his house quickly. He sees the empty coat rack, the absence of his step-father’s briefcase at the door and sighs in relief.

“Yeah. It’s me, mom.”

His mother steps from the kitchen, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. Kyungsoo can smell her cooking now - the rich scent of the roast in the oven, roasted vegetables, and her homemade rolls. Although she smiles, it’s tight and brittle on her face, more for her benefit than for Kyungsoo’s. If she can pretend that everything is okay with her beautiful house, beautiful clothes, beautiful dinner, then perhaps one day it actually would be.

“Baekhyun is in your room waiting for you,” She says, fiddling with the collar of Kyungsoo’s sweater needlessly, “He stopped by about half an hour ago and said he’d wait for you. Where did you go?”

“Out,” Kyungsoo chokes, slipping away from his mother’s touch. He tries not to overthink about the way her face falls. He takes the steps two at a time on the way to his room, opening the door to find Baekhyun laying on his bed flipping through a book. 

“You’re back!” Baekhyun smiles, tossing the book back onto Kyungsoo’s desk. Kyungsoo nods, sitting in his desk chair because with Baekhyun there’s no room for him in his own bed. 

“What happened to your eye?” Baekhyun asks with a frown, sitting up and balancing his elbows on his knees. Kyungsoo shrugs and doesn’t meet Baekhyun’s worried gaze, choosing to focus on the book that Baekhyun had chosen – The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. He stares at Aslan sprinting on the cover with the children on his back. “Was it those hoods from yesterday?” 

“No, it wasn’t,” Kyungsoo says quickly, picking up the book and flipping through the pages, “It wasn’t them. I tripped last night in the dark.” 

Baekhyun’s tinkling laugh has the tension in Kyungsoo’s shoulders bleeding out. “You’re pretty clumsy, Soo. Anyway, where were you this afternoon? You didn’t tell your mom where you were going.”

For a few moments, Kyungsoo very seriously considers lying to Baekhyun about what he had been up to. It’d be easier than putting up with the shit storm from Baekhyun that would follow, but if he wanted to hang out with Chanyeol’s group in the future, he’d undoubtedly have to keep up the untruth. Baekhyun wasn’t gullible or obtuse, and it would only be a matter of time until he caught on. Better to bite to bullet now than later. 

“I went over to Vallaro Street to play stickball.”

With narrowed eyes, Baekhyun gauges Kyungsoo before saying, “You don’t know anyone on Vallaro Street.”

“I _didn’t_ know anyone on Vallaro Street,” Kyungsoo corrects him. He stands and returns the book to its shelf on his bookcase, his back to Baekhyun so he won’t need to see the expression on his face.

“You went to hang out with them?” Baekhyun’s voice is incredulous. Kyungsoo continues to toy with the spines of his books, shrugging his shoulders. 

“I did, yeah. That kid, Chanyeol, invited me.”

“And?”

Kyungsoo finally looks at Baekhyun, who looks a mix between expectant and irate. He shrugs, not sure what he could say about the game that afternoon. It was okay, everything like Kyungsoo had expected and yet completely different at the same time. On the walk over Kyungsoo had been sure that Sehun would be brooding and angry with his presence there, but Kyungsoo had also been sure that he wouldn’t let it affect him so much. He had felt paralyzed in his uncertainty, frozen against the car as he watched the group enjoy themselves. 

“It was all right, I guess. Played stickball.”

“If you want to play stickball you don’t have to go all the way to the South Side, Soo.”

Usually, Kyungsoo didn’t hate the nickname, but there was a condescending tone that Baekhyun had at the moment that he couldn’t stand. “Get off my fucking bed.”

Surprisingly, Baekhyun obeys and stands up. “I’m just saying, and you probably shouldn’t hang out with them.”

“Why?” Kyungsoo turns back to his bookshelf and plays with dust to occupy himself.

“Because they’re dangerous. One second you’re playing stickball the next you’re in a fucking knife fight.”

A shuffling in the hallway outside of Kyungsoo’s room can be heard before a few light knocks on the door ring out. After a moment, the door swings open, Kyungsoo’s mother’s face appearing in the opening. She’s smiling wide until she can sense the tense atmosphere in the room, and her smile slips slightly. 

“Dinner’s ready,” She says, “Will you be staying, Baekhyun?”

“No,” Kyungsoo answers quickly for him, ignoring the offended huff of breath Baekhyun lets out, “Baekhyun’s going home.”

His mother’s face falls, “Oh, but you just got here, Kyungsoo. You haven’t spent any time with Baekhyun.” 

"It's fine, mother. We wouldn't want to impose, anyway."

"Nonsense, I've made plenty..." Kyungsoo's mother trails off, discouraged by the stony look on her son's face. With a small nod in Baekhyun's direction, she closes the door behind her and makes her way back down the stairs. The pair says nothing until her footsteps are too far to be heard.

Baekhyun clears his throat, voice deceptively light when he says, "You can kick me out of your house if you want, Kyungsoo, but it doesn't change what I said. Just looking out for you, so don't get all salty. Anyway. See you tomorrow?"

Kyungsoo can feel himself deflating, little prickly spines retreating. It was probably true what Baekhyun was saying – Chanyeol and his friends would probably fight just as quickly as they'd toss a ball around. They were tough, hardened from their lives in a way Kyungsoo couldn't relate to. Perhaps Baekhyun was just looking out for him, just had Kyungsoo's best interests in mind, but for a reason he couldn't explain, Kyungsoo just wasn't ready to let Chanyeol go. 

"Maybe," Kyungsoo says quietly, offering Baekhyun a small smile. He's met with a wide, square grin. "Sorry."

"No worries. If you want to hang, just stop by. Or I'll see you Monday."

Kyungsoo walks Baekhyun to the door, mostly as an apology for getting angry and unceremoniously kicking him out without a meal. In the dining room, his mother's set the dining room table. There are only two settings today, which means his step-father won't be joining them. With a small sigh, Kyungsoo sits and carves the roast for himself and his mother.

The conversation is quiet, with his mother doing most of the talking. She tells Kyungsoo about their neighbors and their exploits - the drama and more mind-numbing details. When they finish, Kyungsoo helps his mother to clean up the dishes and the kitchen, despite her repeated efforts to wave him off. Just as they finish and Kyungsoo's wiping down the counters with a damp cloth, he hears the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"I'll be upstairs," Kyungsoo says to his mother, who immediately busies herself with reheating his step-father’s dinner on the stove. He slinks away, managing to avoid him by going through the entryway just as his step-father enters the living room. 

After a quick shower, Kyungsoo lays on his bed, thumbing through his book discarded earlier. He remembers how hard he had cried at the Pevensies' return to England when his mother had read him the story years earlier. She had soothed him with a hand in his hair, hushing him with soft words. _They can be with their mother and father again, with people,_ she had said. But Kyungsoo could only think of the beautiful, magical world they left behind, where they were Kings and Queens, to become normal once more. 

He thinks about the conversation he had with Chanyeol at the drive-in. A hot air balloon, a door at the back of a wardrobe... 

Placing his glasses on the bedside table, Kyungsoo's fingers press against the tender skin of his eye before he sighs and turns off his lamp, laying silently in the dark.

***

On Wednesday nights, Jongdae and Jongin come to the Park's for dinner. It's tradition at this point - no invitations necessary. Although Jongdae could cook decent enough to feed Jongin (and their mother, if she was home for long enough), Mrs. Park thought it was a travesty to have two young boys like that always fending for themselves.

Wednesday night means a roast chicken. The smell of the spices, meat, and vegetables wafts from the oven and fills the house. Sehun’s been recruited by their mother to clean up and set the table as punishment for skipping school earlier with Jongin and getting caught on South Street by Mrs. Lyon next door. 

There’s a knock at the front door just a moment before it swings open, Jongdae and Jongin shuffling in and bringing the cool breeze with them. Jongdae swoops into the kitchen to kiss Mrs. Park on the cheek, putting the six-pack of beer he brought with him in the icebox.

“Sorry for this ankle-biter,” Mrs. Park says, jutting a thumb out at Sehun, who scowls at the description. “I know skipping school this afternoon was probably his idea.”

“Nonsense,” Jongdae waves her off, shrugging off his leather jacket and sitting down at the dining table that’s crammed into the small space between the kitchen and the living room. “I’m sorry this one doesn’t have enough of a backbone.” 

Although Chanyeol and Jongdae are the same age and had gone to school together for years, it’s in moments like this that Chanyeol feels the gap between them sharply. Forced to drop out to support Jongin and their alcoholic mother, Jongdae is grown beyond his years. He’s got more responsibility than Chanyeol will probably ever have, yet he wears it well. Jongdae is never anything but bright smiles and a cheerful disposition.

With the brothers over for dinner, the small table is an even tighter fit than usual. Elbows brush and conversation flows, much louder than usual with Jongdae added into the mix. Jongin talks with Mrs. Park about the science project he and Sehun will be working on before Christmas break and Chanyeol finds himself roped into yet another conversation about the inefficiency of game clocks in football with Jongdae and his father.

“Speaking of football,” Mr. Park says, pausing to take a swig of beer, “Is Junmyeon coming back over the holidays?”

The table goes silent, with Jongin fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat next to Sehun. Chanyeol eyes him warily, noticing how Sehun’s knuckles have gone white with how hard he’s clenching his fork and knife. 

Junmyeon was the only one of their group who had gone away to college – on a full football scholarship no less. Apparently, he was the best kicker the recruiter had seen in years. 

The fact that he was leaving at all was hard to deal with for all the boys, but how he went made it even worse. In the weeks leading up to Junmyeon’s departure, he talked to them less and less, excusing himself from their usual hangouts and activities. Instead, they noticed Junmyeon spending more time with other kids in their town who would be attending the same college – the same assholes who had routinely mocked their group just weeks before. 

It hurt, but after a year, Chanyeol could see why Junmyeon did it. Growing up the way they did, Junmyeon was already at a disadvantage going away to school. Making friends and giving himself some defense was the only option he had. It had taken Chanyeol months to come to this understanding, and he knew for sure that Sehun still hadn’t. 

Sehun and Junmyeon had been close – even closer than Chanyeol and Sehun. Chanyeol was Sehun’s brother, but Junmyeon was something else entirely. 

That feeling of being traded for something better, nicer, shinier by someone you loved was hard to shake. It burrows down deep, eats at your soul, makes you question every relationship you have. Junmyeon’s betrayal and his leaving hadn’t been discussed at all amongst their group. Even Jongdae and Jongin’s feelings about him are still a mystery to Chanyeol. 

“We’re not sure,” Jongdae answers eventually, wearing a small smile though his eyes are unreadable. 

After dinner, Jongin and Sehun slip away to the bedroom to talk about god knows what - maybe comic books, maybe girls. Chanyeol and Jongdae stay at the table to talk, the laugh track from the TV and the sound of running water as Mrs. Park washed the dishes drowning out their voices slightly. 

“I was thinking earlier. There’s something about that North Side kid,” Jongdae accuses, eyes sharp and lips quirked into a half smile.

“Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol scoffs, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest.

“Well, not about him, exactly,” Jongdae clarifies, taking a sip from the beer in front of him, “About… you and him. It’s interesting.”

Chanyeol’s mother calls him from the kitchen right after, asking him to help get something from one of the higher shelves. He’s never been more thankful in his life.

***

As the weeks pass, the air grows colder and the nights grow longer. It means layering up before hopping into the cab of the truck or running out on the streets.

Kyungsoo wipes his nose, running and numb from the cold, with the back of his sleeve. He picks up the bat that Minseok’s extended towards him. 

He took his first swing last week. Sehun had been pitching, and Kyungsoo had swung out so spectacularly that he was embarrassed enough to head home early. 

Secretly, Kyungsoo had been practicing his swing all week in his room. He was even caught by Baekhyun on Thursday evening when he let himself into Kyungsoo’s room after dinner. 

Even now, he feels like he’s out of his element. Luckily for him, Sehun isn’t pitching today. For the first time, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol will play on the same team as Sehun. Sehun doesn't look wholly put out about it, although he shares unreadable looks with Chanyeol and Jongin every so often. 

Kyungsoo scores himself a triple and even earns a pat on the shoulder from Sehun, although it's hard enough that Kyungsoo wonders if he meant for it to hurt more than congratulate. 

By the time the game’s over, Kyungsoo’s glad he wore a sweater and his denim jacket. There’s a bite to the chill now, and when he peeks at himself in the car mirrors, his nose and cheeks are tinted pink. 

“Good game,” Jongdae congratulates him, siding up to Kyungsoo and knocking their shoulders together. “After last week, I wasn’t expecting much from you, dupe.”

Beside them, Minseok laughs and nods in agreement. Yixing hushes the both of them and says, “Yeah, you got like what? Three triples? Last week you couldn’t even hit the ball.”

“That my friends,” Chanyeol announces dramatically, “Is what we call character development.”

Minseok hums and says, “Speaking of character development. Chanyeol said you moved here a few months ago, Kyungsoo. Why’d you move?” 

Kyungsoo shrugs, fiddling with his glasses before pulling his sleeves down to cover his hands. “My mom got remarried.”

“Your friend… Baekhyun, right? Is it true he’s dating Seulgi Kang?” Jongdae asks, entirely shifting the mood from the somber one that had begun to settle in. Simultaneously, half the group groans. 

Even Yixing voices his displeasure. “You need to give her up, Jongdae. She’s never gonna want a dirty mechanic like you, anyway.”

“I guess they’re dating. They’ve been going around for a bit. I can ask?” Kyungsoo offers, feeling uncomfortable being the bearer of such news. Jongdae looks stricken and kicks at a small rock on the street.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” 

“You know, me and Sehun don’t live far away from here. Less than ten minutes,” Chanyeol says, “I can give you a lift home if we go back to get the truck. Probably faster than you walking all the way to the North Side by yourself.” 

He was right. The past couple of weeks Kyungsoo had to occasionally jog so he wouldn’t get back incredibly late. Two weeks ago, his step-father had caught him at the door, and Kyungsoo was lucky to get away with a verbal lashing. 

After Kyungsoo agrees, somewhat timidly, they start making their way back to their respective houses. When Kyungsoo pauses to think, it’s further into the South Side than he’s ever gone before.

“So… if Baekhyun’s with Seulgi, are you with Wendy?” Yixing asks.

After the date at the drive-in, Kyungsoo hadn’t even seen Wendy beside the occasional run-in in town. She was kind enough to him, always giving him a soft smile and a nod when they passed each other. Kyungsoo assumed she hadn’t told anyone about the exchange he had with Chanyeol and the group either because nobody had asked him about why he was hanging out with hoods. She was sweet – really sweet – but it when he thought about it, Kyungsoo felt _nothing_. 

“No. Not for Baekhyun’s lack of nagging, though.” 

The houses on the South Side are smaller and older than what Kyungsoo’s used to. Every so often they pass by a house with a front yard filled with what Kyungsoo thought was junk, like dead appliances or old furniture. Minseok splits off first, and then Yixing shortly after. Jongin and Jongdae live just a block over from Chanyeol and Sehun's house. 

After they leave, the walk with Sehun and Chanyeol could be uncomfortable, but it strangely isn't. Sehun wraps one of his arms around Chanyeol's shoulder, talking to his brother about some girl in his history class he had his eye on last week. 

"I've heard of her," Chanyeol replies cryptically. 

"From who?" Sehun practically shouts. They've reached the gate of the Park household, so Chanyeol motions for Sehun to quiet down. The house is small and quaint, a single story surrounded by a chain-link fence, with a small porch and a large tree in the front yard. There's a swing tied to it, one made of basic rope and a piece of plywood that'd faded and disintegrated over the years. 

"From Xing. She's a doll. But didn't she become a paper shaker?" Sehun nods and looks slightly put out with his own admission. "Maybe you could get her in the back of the truck for a night, but she's way out of your league, Sehun."

"Speakin’ of people in the back of a truck, are you driving him home straight away?" Sehun nods his head towards Kyungsoo. 

"Yeah, I guess. Right, Soo?" 

Hearing the nickname from Chanyeol so suddenly and without warning has Kyungsoo's stomach flip slightly. He swallows and nods, watching as Chanyeol pulls car keys from the pocket of his jeans. 

"Alright. See you when you get back. Bye, Kyungsoo." 

It doesn’t escape Kyungsoo that it’s the first time Sehun had said anything directly to him, even if it was a simple goodbye.

Sehun turns and walks back into the house, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. Chanyeol opens the passenger side door to the cab of the truck for Kyungsoo, gesturing for him to hop inside. He does so, with pink ears, biting down on his lower lip. Chanyeol runs around and sits in the driver's seat, starting up the car after a bit of stall on the engine. 

Kyungsoo wants to say something but finds himself frozen. This is the first time he and Chanyeol have been alone together. With their every interaction came the looming presence of Chanyeol's brother and friends. 

"Kyungsoo?" Chanyeol asks when they've pulled up to a red light close to the center of town. Kyungsoo makes a sound between a hum and a squeak. "Where should I go from here?"

"Oh. Uh, take a left on Milton Road and follow it to River Street."

"Okay." A few seconds pass, and the light turns green. "Do you have fun when you come out with us?"

"I do," Kyungsoo answers honestly, feeling his ears heat further. He prays that Chanyeol won't be able to see in the dark. 

"I'm glad," Chanyeol beams, "You should hang with us more often. At the diner or just somewhere in town. If you're ok with it."

Kyungsoo returns his smile and nods. "Yeah. I’d uh, I’d like that.”

“Boss! Then let's get lunch tomorrow? At Steak and Shake around one?”

Steak and Shake was one of the two diners in the center of town. Kyungsoo had yet to go there in the few months he’d lived in town. He agrees, and he can’t help but smile slightly at Chanyeol, who still looks ecstatic. 

“Sure. I can be there at one. Oh, my house is up here on the left.”

Chanyeol pulls over and parks the truck, the rumble of the engine loud. With his hand on the door handle, Kyungsoo pauses and looks at Chanyeol. Leaning back in the seat, Chanyeol draws his eyebrows up high on his face in question. 

“Do you have fun when I’m with you guys?” 

“I do,” Chanyeol replies quickly, “You’re a good addition. Sorry if Sehun makes you feel unwelcome. I’m working on him.” 

“No, no worries,” Kyungsoo laughs. The way Chanyeol’s smiling at him, easy and open and gentle, has Kyungsoo’s hand fumbling when he tries to open the door. “See you tomorrow.”

Chanyeol nods, raising his right hand in farewell. Kyungsoo hops from the cab of the truck and slams the door shut, crossing the street to his house.

By the time Kyungsoo gets to his front door, his stomach is twisted in fear. He can still hear the rumble of Chanyeol’s car behind him, and Kyungsoo lets the fact that he’s still there offer him a bit of comfort.

Kyungsoo manages to open the front door quietly enough, giving himself just enough space to squeeze himself through. The first floor is quiet, the only sound the muffled noise of the television, and the only light from the parlor. On the tips of his toes, Kyungsoo makes his way up the stairs. His step-father must be watching TV alone because the light from the master bedroom shines from underneath the crack of the door. 

He heaves a sigh of relief when he gets to his room, closing the door and locking it behind him. 

When he looks out the window, he sees Chanyeol still idling across the street. There’s no way Chanyeol can know which room is his, but as soon as Kyungsoo peers through the window, Chanyeol pulls away, almost like he was waiting.

***

Steak and Shake wasn’t anything special and had become the most popular diner in town only because it was the easiest one to get to for virtually everybody. Smack in the middle of the main street, steady foot traffic of school children and housewives alike keeps the booths and tables full. Kyungsoo waits for Chanyeol outside, watching the crowds of people out to enjoy their Sunday.

Kyungsoo had tried to dress down a bit today, knowing that Chanyeol would probably come in something faded or worse for wear. He opted for a plaid shirt with a pair of jeans and his denim jacket. His hair wasn’t slicked back into one of the glossy styles Chanyeol and the group always had, but it was nearly parted and combed. He's decided to leave his glasses at home today, because although they made it easier for Kyungsoo to see from afar, they made him look like an utter nerd. 

Chanyeol had said one, but it was already fifteen past. Scuffing the toe of his sneaker, Kyungsoo pinches at the skin between his forefinger and thumb. Soon fifteen minutes would turn to thirty, would turn to an hour, and Kyungsoo would still be standing out here like a fool.

“Hey!” Chanyeol’s voice booms. Kyungsoo releases his hand and turns to look at Chanyeol, who’s just hopped out of the cab of his truck. Letting out a huff of relief, Kyungsoo waves at him.

“Sorry I’m late,” Chanyeol practically pouts, “I was working in the yard with my dad and lost track of time.”

Chanyeol’s jeans have fresh dirt marks on his knees, and he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt with a leather jacket. He pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it up, offering Kyungsoo one. He hesitates for a second before waving it off. 

“What were you doing?” Kyungsoo asks, following Chanyeol when he walks up to the door of Steak and Shake. 

“Building a chicken coop! Just a little one. Mom’s got a friend who’s gonna sell us some hens. Good for eggs. Maybe next year we’ll get a rooster or something so we can get some chicks.”

Kyungsoo nods dumbly, utterly ignorant of anything involving livestock or farming of any sort. He didn’t even know people still kept chickens now that you could buy a whole one at Safeway. After they slide into a booth by the window, Chanyeol immediately fixes his eyes on the menu, flicking the ash of his cigarette into the tray every so often. Kyungsoo is surprised that Chanyeol looks so comfortable being here with him. He, on the other hand, feels like his skin is going hot and cold with the stares of everyone around them.

“You okay?” Chanyeol mumbles around his cigarette. Jerkily, Kyungsoo nods, picking up his own menu to try and look normal. “What are you thinking?”

Kyungsoo panics before he realizes that Chanyeol’s asking about what he wants to order. He blurts the first thing his eyes land on. “Roast Beef Sandwich. I guess?”

“Their roast beef is pretty good. I’m thinking a burger with some fries and a shake,” Chanyeol sighs, patting at his stomach. "You're glaring at the menu because you didn't wear your glasses today, huh?"

With a nod, Kyungsoo laughs a bit. He tries not to look too self-conscious with his decision to forgo his sight for his appearance. 

The waitress comes over then to take their order, saving Kyungsoo from having to make any conversation for at least a few more moments. He notices the dirty look she gives Chanyeol when she gives him an up-down, rolling her eyes before taking Kyungsoo’s order as well. 

Squirming with a combination of embarrassment and guilt at having witnessed her treatment of Chanyeol, Kyungsoo watches two girls giggle in front of the jukebox in the corner. 

“You go to St. Michael’s, right?” Chanyeol crushes his cigarette when he asks. His voice is light, unbothered, and when Kyungsoo looks back at his face, he doesn’t look particularly upset or angry.

“No. Trinity Academy.”

“Ooooh,” Chanyeol teases, waggling his eyebrows at Kyungsoo, “The fancy private school. You probably know, but I go to Central.”

“I’ve heard it’s… nice.”

Chanyeol snorts at Kyungsoo’s poor choice of words. “Yeah, it actually ain’t half bad.”

The waitress brings Chanyeol’s chocolate milkshake and Kyungsoo’s root beer float. Chanyeol wastes no time plunging his straw in, taking a long drink. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, stirs his ice cream into his soda before taking a few small sips.

“So, you enjoy school?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Brilliant but uninspired,” Chanyeol says cheekily, “That’s what my 6th-grade teacher said about me on one report card.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“ _Are_ you brilliant but uninspired?”

Chanyeol’s smile looks a bit tighter at the question, and he sips at his milkshake before he answers Kyungsoo. “It’s one word for it.”

“But not the word you would use?” Chanyeol shakes his head. “Then what?”

“Broke.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say, and can only manage a quiet, “Oh.”

Leaning back in his seat and shrugging, Chanyeol’s face is blank, but his shoulders look tense. He crosses his arms, saying, “In a Nowheresville like this what’s the point of being on the stick? I can be inspired, but at the end of the day I’ll be a handyman, like my dad or Xing, or a mechanic.”

Their food is dropped unceremoniously on the table just as Kyungsoo opens his mouth to say something. Chanyeol picks up a fry and shoves it into his mouth, gesturing for Kyungsoo to take some as well, as he hadn’t ordered any of his own. 

“You’re a senior too, right?” Chanyeol asks. Kyungsoo nods, grateful for the change of subject, his mouth too full of the sandwich to say anything. Chanyeol laughs. “That means me, you, and Jongdae are all the same age. Not that it matters, much. Just a little fun fact.”

Kyungsoo wipes at his mouth. “Oh. I assumed Jongdae had already graduated… he’s working.”

“Yeah, he quit school two years ago so he could start working with Minseok at the station. He’s pretty good with cars. Even if he didn’t help with yours that night,” Chanyeol pauses to take a huge bite of his burger, pushing a fry into his still full mouth. “So, what do you do for fun? When you’re not with the coolest group in town.”

A bite gives Kyungsoo some stalling time. Honestly, he didn’t do much of anything. Chanyeol and his friends all had such diverse interests, and always seemed to be up to something, it was a bit embarrassing to admit. What if Chanyeol found him boring? Kyungsoo racks his brain. “I like reading. And, uh, before I moved here, I was in the Scouts.”

Chanyeol’s eyes are wide and surprised. “You don’t seem like you’d be in the Scouts. That’s pretty cool. You can do all those knots and shit?”

Kyungsoo can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I can do all those knots and shit.”

“Cool. If the Soviets drop the bomb, you’re with me. We’ll need someone who can survive out there when everything goes to shit.” 

Kyungsoo takes another bite of his sandwich with a small smile, and when he shifts in his seat, his knees brush against Chanyeol’s knobby ones. Chanyeol doesn’t move when they do, doesn’t even seem to notice as he takes a bite of his burger, ketchup smeared on the corner of his mouth. He holds eye contact with Kyungsoo as he chews and licks the mess from his lips.

“You ever shoot a gun?” Chanyeol asks. 

“No,” Kyungsoo answers, warily. His mind immediately goes back to Baekhyun’s words about how Chanyeol and his group could be dangerous.

“Don’t look so spooked!” Chanyeol laughs, nudging at Kyungsoo’s ankle. “Just trying to figure out what the hell you Scouts do. Sometimes we shoot rifles on the weekends. Me and the guys, I mean. Just some target practice.”

Kyungsoo takes a drink of his soda, ignoring the strange feeling that lingered from Chanyeol’s touch. “Sounds dangerous.”

Chewing a mouthful of fries, Chanyeol shakes his head. “Nah. We’re careful ‘nough. You could try it. If you’re interested. And if you promise not to shoot Sehun.” 

“Why would I shoot Sehun?” Kyungsoo asks, shifting in his seat, uncomfortable at the insinuation. Chanyeol nudges at his leg again, chuckling. He looked so young and soft like this - cheeks round with food, eyes crinkled in mirth. 

“I’m just pullin’ your leg, Soo. Sehun hasn’t exactly been real friendly towards you, that’s all. He’s just a tough nut to crack, y’know?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t, but he nods anyway. “It’s fine. I get that he finds it weird that I’d want to be with you guys.”

Chanyeol’s reached the last of his milkshake, sucking furiously despite nothing being left. With the corners of his lips downturned, he reaches across the table and grabs Kyungsoo’s soda, taking a drink. He opens his mouth to protest but falls silent when Chanyeol winks at him. 

The earlier feeling of everyone’s eyes on them has faded. It’s easy to talk to Chanyeol one on one, more comfortable than Kyungsoo had thought it would be. Most likely it’s because Chanyeol steers the conversation adeptly, moving from uncomfortable subjects quickly and comforting Kyungsoo with teasing words and the occasional touch. 

Chanyeol asks about Baekhyun and Kyungsoo tells him about their unlikely friendship. He also tells him about Baekhyun’s friends, who tolerated him for Baekhyun’s sake. Chanyeol tells him about his dog, Spark, who died after dragging himself home with both his back legs broken. 

When Chanyeol and the group had heard it was a group of hoods on the edge of town that did it, it’s what made them join their first real rumble, and it’s how he got the rough, jagged scar on his bicep that he shows to Kyungsoo. It’s also what made him want to be a vet, he said, before he realized becoming a vet required money. Kyungsoo confesses that he doesn’t have any dreams like that and that he’s the slightest bit jealous.

It shouldn’t be so easy to talk about this stuff – the dark and sad parts of himself that Kyungsoo tries so hard to hide. 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol’s voice is dangerous, and he leans forward across the table, now covered with empty plates and glasses. He’s so close, and it’s the closest Kyungsoo has ever been to him. Chanyeol smells faintly of Palmolive aftershave and sweat. 

Kyungsoo knows he should lean back or look away before someone in here gets the wrong idea. After all, they’re just a hair away, close enough to feel the exhale from Chanyeol’s nose fan across his face.

“We’re gonna have to pull a bite and bolt.”

“What?”

“We’re skippin’ the bill. I ordered like a dollar's worth of food, and I only have a quarter and a dime in my pocket.”

He knows what it _means_ to bite and bolt, but he just thought something different would come out of Chanyeol’s mouth. He feels stupid, and he can sense a blush creeping up the back of his neck. But Chanyeol is still looking at him expectantly, one eyebrow quirked.

“I have money, Chanyeol…”

“No,” Chanyeol says firmly, reaching to press Kyungsoo’s hand to the table when he moves to get change from his wallet. Kyungsoo blinks up at him, eyes wide, and Chanyeol’s face softens into a smile. “Where’s the fun in that, huh? I bet you’ve never even pulled a runner, have you?”

There was never a _reason_ to pull a runner because Kyungsoo and his friends had always had enough money. He shakes his head, and Chanyeol looks giddy. 

“Okay. Well, you won’t be able to come back here for a couple of weeks at least, but this isn’t the best food in town, so it’s not much of a loss.” Chanyeol looks around the diner, checking that almost everyone is busy with their food and their server is nowhere to be found. “I’ll head out first and start my truck. Count to ten and follow me out. Okay?” 

After Kyungsoo gives a shaky nod, Chanyeol is up and out of his seat. The door jingles softly on his way out and Kyungsoo looks around nervously. Their waitress is still in the kitchen, and no one else seems to have noticed. In his head, Kyungsoo begins to count down. He gets to five when he hears the truck roar to life outside the diner.

The adrenaline suddenly rushing through his veins has his heart racing and body vibrating. Another five seconds and Kyungsoo stands on shaky knees, his palms covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat. He doesn’t glance over his shoulder even once on his way out, feeling a strange sense of power and exhilaration trickle down his spine. 

Once outside, Kyungsoo rushes to the truck. Chanyeol’s leaning across the cab to prop the door open. Just as Kyungsoo jumps in the cab, their waitress flings the door of the diner open, her hair whipping in the wild autumn wind. Tires squealing briefly, Chanyeol pulls away and speeds down Main Street, the waitresses mouth agape as she watches them fade from sight.

The laughter that bubbles out is impossible to stop, with Kyungsoo’s whole body feeling electrified. Chanyeol looks just as exhilarated, reaching across to shove at Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he laughs. 

“Okay, maybe we can’t go back there for a few months,” Kyungsoo says between laughs.

“Agreed.”

Bombing down Main Street, Chanyeol takes a few sharp turns, tires squealing, until they arrive at the park closest to Central High. 

“Ah, no one’s here,” Chanyeol sighs, “I thought someone we know might be hanging here.”

Chanyeol parks the car anyway, cutting the ignition and hopping out of the cab. Kyungsoo follows him, buttoning his jacket up to his neck against the wind and cold. The park wasn’t big or particularly exciting, just a couple of grassy knolls with trees and a decent fountain in the center. They head for the fountain, with Chanyeol plopping himself onto a bench, pulling another cigarette from his jacket. Again, he offers one to Kyungsoo, who decides this time to accept.

He’d smoked a cigarette before, with his friend Hyunsik, right before he moved. He hadn’t liked it at the time, but there probably wasn’t harm in trying again. Plus, Chanyeol seemed to like it well enough. 

The first inhale burns, and Kyungsoo can’t hold it in for long before he’s coughing. Thankfully, Chanyeol doesn’t say or do anything, just rests his feet on the edge of the fountain and lets his head rest against the back of the bench. Again, Kyungsoo attempts the cigarette but doesn’t inhale as deep this time. It feels a little better. 

“Back at the diner, you said you like to read,” Chanyeol says, head tilted towards Kyungsoo. “What’s your favorite book?”

“I have a lot of favorites,” Kyungsoo admits, laughing as he looks away again. “I just reread this book, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Have you heard of it?” Chanyeol shakes his head. “Oh. It’s by a British author. My mother bought a copy for me a few years ago.”

With his arm now on the back of the bench, Chanyeol lets his head rest against it, his gaze heavy on Kyungsoo. “What’s it about?”

“These kids, uh, go to stay in his country house during the war. The little girl – the youngest of the kids - she finds this magical world at the back of a wardrobe. And her siblings don’t believe her at first because it’s ridiculous. But eventually, they all go through the wardrobe, and they get caught up in this magical world,” Kyungsoo stops there, not wanting to give up too much of the plot. Chanyeol’s eyes look like they’re glittering, enthralled with Kyungsoo or his story. Or maybe both.

“I think I understand why you like it,” Chanyeol takes another drag from his cigarette, smoke swirling around his head. 

“Why?”

The butt of Chanyeol’s cigarette sails into the fountain. Just then, rain begins to fall, a cold drizzle that quickly coats everything. With a curse, Chanyeol stands, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. 

“C’mon, I can give you a lift home.”

Kyungsoo follows him back to the truck, the rain beginning to drip off of his brow and the slope of his nose. It’s cold enough that when they sit in the cab of the truck, both of their teeth begin to chatter. 

“I hate the fall,” Chanyeol grumbles, “I just wish winter would hurry up already.” 

Before Kyungsoo realizes it, they’re only a block and a half away from his house. Having Chanyeol’s car parked outside of his home two days in a row would be less than ideal, especially if his step-father or mother caught sight of the beat-up Chevy, with its noisy engine and peeling paint. He can only hope they don’t notice, or that nosy neighbors don’t let the news reach their ears.

“Can you wait here for a minute?” Kyungsoo asks when Chanyeol pulls over and puts the car in park. He nods, and then Kyungsoo is out of the truck and dashing across the street to his house. Wrapping his arms around himself to stay warm, Chanyeol vows that he’ll get Minseok or Jongdae to put a heater in his truck before winter hits. 

A minute later, Kyungsoo is hurrying from the front door, shielding his face from the steadily worsening rain. Although Chanyeol expects for him to hop back inside, Kyungsoo just stands at the window and waits for Chanyeol to roll down the window.

“Here,” He says, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a hardcover book. Chanyeol flips through the pages and looks at the spine.

“The book you mentioned earlier. Thanks.”

Kyungsoo gives a small smile, buttoning his coat again. The rain is falling steadily now, flattening Kyungsoo’s hair against his forehead. Droplets of water have gathered on his eyelashes and runs off the slope of his nose and over the curve of his lips. 

Chanyeol can’t help but stare, entranced watching the water run down Kyungsoo’s face. When he finally makes eye contact again, Kyungsoo looks shaken - like he’s seen something he shouldn’t have. Ears burning, Chanyeol puts the book in the passenger seat and clears his throat.

His voice is rough when he speaks. “You’re soaked. You should get inside before you get sick.” 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo’s voice is quiet and unsure as he steps away from the window. Chanyeol attempts to smile at him as he shifts the gear back to drive. He watches as Kyungsoo jogs back to his house – coat and jeans sticking to his body like a second skin.

***

When Chanyeol gets home, Sehun and his father are sitting on the sofa, watching the Lions game. A few beer bottles are scattered at their feet, more than would be allowed if their mother was around. Their father had always indulged Sehun more than anyone else. His mother’s nowhere to be found, maybe out visiting in the neighborhood for a cup of coffee and some gossip.

“Where’d you go?” Sehun asks, his voice slurred slightly. 

Chanyeol toes off his boots in the entryway, wet and coated with mud from his short walk to the house. “I went out into town.”

“Did you see Yixing there?” Mr. Park asks, “He stopped by earlier and said he was heading there.”

“Nah, didn’t see him.”

His feet leaving wet footprints in his wake, Chanyeol goes to the room he shares with Sehun, placing the book Kyungsoo lent him on his nightstand. After he sheds his wet clothes and changes into something more comfortable, he slips into bed and thumbs at the book. 

_A Story For Children_ , the front reads, complete with an illustration of fantastical beasts and two children on the back of a lion. Chanyeol flips through the pages and glances at the other pictures sporadically placed in the text. 

“Where’d you get that?” Sehun laughs from the doorway, rushing in and flopping onto Chanyeol’s bed before Chanyeol can even begin to protest. He groans when most of Sehun’s weight lands on him and manages to maneuver Sehun enough so he can breathe. Like this, they’re practically spooning, with Sehun draped across Chanyeol’s back.

“Just how many beers did you have, kid?”

“Mm. Enough. I asked you a question first though.”

Chanyeol sighs. “I didn’t steal it or anything. I’m borrowing it.”

Sehun perks up at that, propping his chin on Chanyeol’s shoulder so he can see the pages. “Borrowing it? From who?”

“Does it matter?” Chanyeol answers his question with a question. He’s a bit defensive, though he’s not sure what he’s afraid of Sehun discovering. Sehun pinches at Chanyeol’s side hard in revenge, twisting the skin just above his waist. 

“I bet it was that Kyungsoo kid, wasn’t it?” 

At that, Chanyeol chooses to stay silent, opening the book to the first chapter instead. 

“You’re on the hook, Yeol,” Sehun mumbles, his hand clumsily petting at Chanyeol’s side. Chanyeol stiffens at his words, the page in front of him blurring. He feels like Sehun's opened him up and pulled his guts out to examine and dissect.

His feelings and his attraction to Kyungsoo had become clear to Chanyeol that afternoon. When he saw Kyungsoo in front of the diner, dressed down to make him more comfortable, the spark that rushed through Chanyeol had terrified him. As the day went on it had only gotten worse for Chanyeol, and when Kyungsoo stood next to his car in the rain. The desire to lean through the window and take Kyungsoo's lips had been so strong.

"Yeol?" Sehun whispers, leaning up so he can look down at Chanyeol's face, his own expression worried. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Chanyeol says, even though he is not okay, "But... you don't seem angry, Sehun. I thought you hated him."

A grunt escapes from Sehun, neither agreement nor disagreement. "I guess he's not as bad as I thought? You like him well enough. You seem happier when he's around..."

Words escape Chanyeol because he doesn't know if he should thank Sehun or deny the subtle accusations. Chanyeol didn't think he had acted any differently when Kyungsoo was around the group, but maybe he did laugh a little louder or joke a little more. 

"Turn the page," Sehun whines, rubbing his cold nose against Chanyeol's neck, "I'm done with this one." 

"Yeah, okay."

***

Kyungsoo’s week is both terrifying and mundane. On Tuesday, he coughs up blood on the bathroom floor, trembling with shock and pain as he tries to block out the sounds of shouting from the floor below. The next morning, his mother patches his glasses up with tape and writes him a note to excuse him from gym class.

He spends the majority of the rest of the week out of the house at Baekhyun’s to ‘study,’ despite the fact that his schoolwork is surprisingly manageable, even with the end of the semester looming over everyone’s heads. Baekhyun doesn’t address the bruise on Kyungsoo’s jaw this week, so neither does he.

On Saturday morning, feeling surprisingly brave, Kyungsoo goes to the Park’s in the late morning without calling first. Chanyeol had said he’d be welcome to hang with them anytime, and now that Kyungsoo knew where the Park’s lived, it was probably safe to assume that included their house. After all, he had heard that Jongdae and Jongin dropped in often enough to have pieces of clothing scattered at the Park’s, and that Mrs. Park kept a box of Yixing’s favorite cereal in the cabinet – just in case. 

Breakfast had just finished – Mrs. Park had cooked too much bacon and eggs and had sent Sehun running to the Kim’s to grab Jongin and Jongdae as well. When they hear the knock at the door, it’s only reflex to turn and shout that it’s open to whoever it is.

“Chanyeol! It’s Kyungsoo!” Jongdae exclaims in happy surprise, his eyes scrunching as he laughs. “Wow, I never fucking thought I’d see you here!”

“Jongdae, language,” Mrs. Park reminds, rolling her eyes. 

Kyungsoo greets Chanyeol and Sehun’s parents, awkwardly hovering in the space between the living room and the entryway. He takes in what he can see of Chanyeol’s home. It’s small - much smaller than Kyungsoo’s house. There’s no formal dining space, just a table set up against the windows between the living room and the kitchen. To his right, he sees a short hallway with a series of doors that Kyungsoo presumes leads to the bedrooms.

Everything inside looks a little old and worse for wear, but the personal touches that decorate the main room made it feel homey. Kyungsoo could smell the bacon that had been cooking earlier. He felt like he could pull one of the blankets from the back of the couch and curl up forever. 

“Come on inside,” Chanyeol’s father mumbles with a cigarette between his lips, turning the page in his newspaper. 

Kyungsoo moves to sit at the table with Chanyeol and Jongdae, running his hands over his thighs to calm himself. 

“We don’t usually get such well-dressed young men in here,” Mrs. Park comments. She looks at Chanyeol and Jongdae pointedly - her eyes raking over their worn flannel shirts and dirty jeans. Kyungsoo had tried his best to dress down today, with a simple button-down and pants, but his pants are still perfectly pressed and hemmed and his shirt pristine.

“You say that like you give us money for nice clothes, Ma,” Chanyeol scoffs.

“You would have money to buy them yourself if you didn’t waste it all on cigarettes and beer and whatever else you boys buy.”

At the reminder,bBoth Jongdae and Chanyeol reach for the cigarette pack at the same time, fighting over it for a minute before they both light one up and take a long drag. Kyungsoo chuckles at Mrs. Park’s long-suffering sigh. 

Deep down, Kyungsoo had quite expected for Chanyeol’s family to be unpleasant like his own. In just a few weeks, he had heard the quiet comments exchanged about the turmoil in Yixing’s home, about Jongdae fending for himself and his younger brother, and there was the obvious question about why Sehun was with the Parks and not his own blood. It had only seemed natural that Chanyeol’s family would have their dysfunction, too. 

It’s curious that Kyungsoo doesn’t feel bitter or jealous like he had the first time he set foot in Baekhyun’s home. Instead, he feels happy for Chanyeol, and for the rest of the group who apparently took refuge under his roof. 

“Sehun!” Chanyeol shouts. Kyungsoo hears a loud grunt in reply from down the hall. “Let's head to the lot!”

Another grunt. The sound of a door opening down the hall and approaching footsteps before Sehun and Jongin come into view. Both their eyes widen when they see Kyungsoo seated at the table. Warily, Jongin looks at Sehun, like he expects some violent reaction from him. He doesn't get one, however, as Sehun purses his lips and gives Kyungsoo a nod. 

"No ball today?" Jongdae asks Chanyeol.

Chanyeol’s eyes are heavy on Kyungsoo’s face, lingering on the patch of yellow and green skin on his jaw. ”Let's do some shooting instead. Kyungsoo's never shot a rifle."

"I'll call Xing," Jongdae says and walks to the phone sitting on the end table in the living room. "Minseok's covering a shift today, so he can't come either way." 

The silence while Jongdae dials and waits is awkward, with only the rustling of Mr. Park's newspaper and the TV to fill it. Hearing that they won’t be playing stickball is like a blessing to Kyungsoo, whose sides and stomach are still aching and bruised. Kyungsoo looks between Chanyeol and Sehun before he decides to make an effort.

"How are you guys?" He asks Jongin and Sehun. They're both still hovering in the hallway with their arms crossed over their chests. 

"Good," Sehun says, finally moving to sit at the table. He sits on Chanyeol's right and lets Jongin take the seat on his left, between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. 

"Xing will be there in like half an hour!" Jongdae exclaims after a short, quiet conversation. "I'll head back and grab our rifle. We should have two, right?" 

Sehun nods enthusiastically, "We can do it in teams, then."

In response, Chanyeol bumps into his shoulder hard, rolling his eyes. "Not everything has to be a competition, kid. We'll just go for fun today. See you there, Jongdae?"

Nodding, Jongdae crosses the living room and pulls his jacket from the hook in the entryway, shrugging it on. "You know it. Later, Mr. Park!"

Apparently, going to shoot rifles means they need to collect as many cans and bottles as they can. Jongin explains to Kyungsoo that they'll use them as targets. Usually, when they played against each other whichever team shot the most would win. But today, Jongin insures, they're not competing, since it's Kyungsoo's first time. 

"I don't want to hold everyone back," Kyungsoo frowns. He and Jongin are digging in one of the barrels outside together, with Sehun and Chanyeol manning the other. Avoiding the rotting food is hard, and Kyungsoo finds himself getting a bit queasy. Jongin doesn't look much better, his face scrunched in disgust.

"You're not," Jongin reassures, voice soft, "Trust me. And besides, the only one who always has more fun when it's a competition is Sehun. I think we have enough of this shit." He holds up the bag filled with cans and bottles, shaking it, so they rattle and clank together.

On the walk, Chanyeol has the rifle slung over his shoulder; leather jacket zipped up to his neck and buttoned over against the chill. _It's a Remington 870_ , he had told Kyungsoo, _Jongdae and Jongin have got the same one_. Sehun's carrying the bag full of shells. Jongin catches Kyungsoo eyeing them and tells Kyungsoo about how Jongdae and Minseok had tag-teamed the hardware store so they could steal some boxes. 

"Shells are expensive," Sehun explains, looking over his shoulder at Kyungsoo from where he and Chanyeol were walking ahead. Kyungsoo nods dumbly, more shocked by Sehun speaking to him than the actual knowledge. 

The lot, only just around the corner from the Park's, is more like an empty field. Wide enough for three or four houses, it's overgrown with weeds and tall grass, with some hunks of wood and metal that Kyungsoo assumes people in the neighborhood have dumped.

They're not in the lot for more than a few minutes when Jongdae and Yixing join them. The rifle that Jongdae carries is identical to the one that Chanyeol still has slung over one shoulder. 

"Good thing you brought shells," Yixing grins, looking into the bag in Sehun's hands, "Jongdae doesn't have any left."

"Time for another trip to the store," Jongdae singsongs, already loading shells into the barrel of his rifle. Kyungsoo helps Jongin and Sehun set up the cans and the bottles at the far of the edge of the lot, balanced atop a collection of tires and bricks. 

"You should shoot first," Jongin offers, balancing a bottle at the very edge of the makeshift wall. 

"Chanyeol's a good teacher," Sehun says, "But even if he wasn't I'm sure you'd want him to help you anyway."

Jongin shoves at Sehun's shoulder as they walk back to where the other three are standing. Kyungsoo's not exactly sure why, but his mouth has gone dry. Next to Yixing, Chanyeol's loading his rifle, eyes focused and tongue peeking from between his teeth. Kyungsoo must stare for a moment too long, because when he looks away from Chanyeol, he can feel everyone else's eyes on him.

"You ready?" Chanyeol laughs, waving Kyungsoo over. Kyungsoo shakes his head in response, and everyone laughs. 

"Nothing to be worried about," Chanyeol chuckles, bumping Kyungsoo with his hip when he gets close enough. "Okay. Safety's on. You can tell because this button is sticking out. See? When you're ready to shoot, we'll just press it, and it'll be off. I've loaded a few rounds in already."

Circling Kyungsoo, Chanyeol stands behind him and presses the gun to his chest. Though not touching his back, Chanyeol is still a warm presence behind Kyungsoo, his breath lightly tickling the back of his neck.

"When you shoot, you want to keep the butt of the rifle against your shoulder," Chanyeol raises the gun to where it should rest, pulling Kyungsoo's left hand up with his own to rest on the pump. "You'll get some kickback, so you'll need to hold yourself tight. And your ears'll ring."

With a tight laugh, Kyungsoo says, "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Nonsense," Chanyeol puts Kyungsoo's other hand on the butt of the rifle, just behind the trigger, "Just aim for the cans. When you're ready, flick the safety off," Chanyeol guides his finger to the switch and then back again, "Shoot on an exhale."

Then he steps away, leaving Kyungsoo's back cold. As soon as he's alone, Kyungsoo wishes that Chanyeol was still with him. It's cold enough today that Kyungoso can't feel the tip of his nose or the ends of his fingers. Behind him, he hears someone else sniff and then a hushed whisper. He's wasted enough time.

A few more seconds of listening to his racing heartbeat and Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. He lets it out slow - and shoots.

Chanyeol was right about the kickback - Kyungsoo's shoulder smarts from where the gun jammed against it. A high-pitched trill fills his ears, and even with his glasses Kyungsoo struggles to see the cans and bottles in the distance.

"You missed," Chanyeol calls out from behind him. "Use the sight at the end of your barrel. Keep both eyes open."

_Both eyes open_. Kyungsoo focuses on one of the bottles at the far end of the field and lines it up. The raw adrenaline from his first shot has him forgetting the cold. His blood pumping furiously and his breath coming quicker, Kyungsoo shoots again.

He misses. Again.

"Don't worry," Jongin steps up next to Kyungsoo with his own rifle in hand. He loads a few shells and smiles at Kyungsoo. "First time isn't easy. Flick the safety on and give Yixing a go."

His hands are shaking a bit, but Kyungsoo manages to turn the safety back on before he hands the gun off to Yixing's expectant arms. When Jongin takes his shot, he hits one of the bottles dead center and causes it to explode - the glass shattering and shooting throughout the field.

"It's a rush, huh?" Chanyeol loops his arm over Kyungsoo's shoulder when he asks, "Even when you miss it's a crazy feeling."

The shoot for the better part of an hour - taking turns with the guns and making their way through a good chunk of the shells and targets. Yixing is by far the best shot in the group - with a steady hand and a calm head, he very rarely misses his mark. Kyungsoo manages to hit three targets in a row on his last attempt, before the heat waves rising from the barrel make it too hard for him to aim. 

Lighting up a cigarette, Sehun frowns and says, "It's too damn cold out."

"Agreed," Jongin tests the barrel of a gun with his hand to see if it's still too hot, "I'm not wearing a thick enough sweater. It's time for lunch, too."

"We can make sandwiches at my place," Yixing offers, "And we should take one to Minseok too because you know he didn't bring a lunch today."

Jongin nabs Sehun's cigarette, taking the last drag. "Yeah, he never does. Xing's and then Sinclair's sounds like a plan."

"Me and Kyungsoo will catch up with you guys," Chanyeol says, surprising both Kyungsoo and the other four. Sehun shares a pointed stare with the Kim brothers and Yixing before they all seem to come to an understanding, packing up the guns and their unused shells. With a wave and a promise not to save any of food for the two of them if they take too long, they turn and leave the lot.

After watching them go, Chanyeol turns back to face Kyungsoo again.

"What's this?" Chanyeol nudges the bruise on Kyungsoo's jaw with his knuckles.

Kyungsoo kicks at one of the spent shells on the ground and mumbles, "Just a bruise."

"Just a bruise? And what about last week?"

"What about last week?"

"In the diner, I saw the bruises on your collarbone. Now your face and your glasses. Who did this to you?” Chanyeol asks, eyes lingering on the bruises on Kyungsoo’s jaw, “Who _does_ this to you?” 

Quickly, Kyungsoo turns away, raising a hand to his face defensively. “No one does anything to me,” He mumbles, “Just goofing around. Accidents and shit.” 

It feels like Chanyeol’s chest is ten times smaller at the words, his heart and lungs constricted. Whoever was doing this to Kyungsoo was practically torturing him, and here Kyungsoo was trying to protect them. Or maybe he was trying to defend himself, afraid of what would happen if others found out. Did he think Chanyeol would mock him for it? Or did he think it would only get worse if others tried to help? 

“You get into a lot of accidents then,” Chanyeol manages to say after a while, a pathetic effort at diffusing the tension. Kyungsoo turns back to Chanyeol and lets out a strangled, choked sound that could be either an attempt at a laugh or a sob. Pulling his lower lip between his teeth, Chanyeol lets himself look at Kyungsoo’s face. 

His cheeks and nose are flushed red, and Chanyeol thinks it could be from embarrassment. Lips chapped from the cold, Kyungsoo’s tongue runs across them. Covered by his thick sweater and denim jacket, Chanyeol can’t see Kyungsoo’s collarbone or the marks that had been there a week earlier. 

With his right hand, Chanyeol yanks down the collar of Kyungsoo’s sweater, drawing a shocked gasp from him. Before Kyungsoo can bat his hand away, Chanyeol can see how the mottled bruises have faded from purple to green and brown. After a few startled seconds, Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol’s hand away and takes a step back, his palm resting against his chest protectively. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Chanyeol?” He asks, voice shaking.

“Put your hands up,” Chanyeol chokes out, chest heaving. Adrenaline is pulsing through him, lips trembling and hands shaking. In comparison, Kyungsoo looks scared to death - his face ashen and eyes wide. 

“W-Why?”

“Put your hands up,” Chanyeol repeats, whipping off his leather jacket and throwing it behind him. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt before raising his own fists. Though his knees shake slightly, he widens his stance. Weakly, Kyungsoo raises his fists half-heartedly, looking a second or two away from puking onto the grass.

“Spread your legs. Shoulder-width apart,” Chanyeol says, and when Kyungsoo doesn’t move after a few moments, Chanyeol reaches out with his right foot and kicks at the inside of Kyungsoo’s ankles until he gets the hint and moves.

“Chanyeol, I’m sorry – ” Kyungsoo says, the panic he feels making his whole body shake like a leaf.

“It’s not accidents. We both know it,” Chanyeol retorts, clenching his jaw against a sudden flip of his stomach. Kyungsoo’s shoulders collapse in shame, and Chanyeol can see the tremble in his lips. “You’re gonna learn how to fight, Kyungsoo. Learn how to defend yourself.”

“I can’t,” Kyungsoo whispers, his hands falling limp at his sides and Chanyeol knows he’s not talking about the physical act of fighting. 

Without a warning or another thought to whether or not it was a good idea - Chanyeol steps forward and quickly digs a fist into Kyungsoo’s torso, striking the soft flesh of his belly. Reeling, Kyungsoo gasps for breath and nearly falls on his ass as he scrambles away, hands pressed against his stomach. His eyes are wild – desperate and scared, and he looks a moment away from pleading with Chanyeol.

“Okay, first thing. Tighten your stomach,” Chanyeol says, raising his fists again. 

“Chanyeol, please,” Kyungsoo begs. His eyes have begun to turn red around the edges. Chanyeol follows him as he steps away. The cold breeze makes the hair on his arms stand at attention. 

“I said tighten your stomach,” Chanyeol says before he lets another fist collide with Kyungsoo’s middle. This time, he finds hard, clenched muscles. Kyungsoo’s jaw is screwed tight, his face one of obvious discomfort. But Chanyeol can’t help the small smile that slips onto his face. “Not bad. If you think they’re going for your stomach, just do that. It hurts less, right?”

With a nod, Kyungsoo seemingly lets himself relax slightly. Slowly, he raises his arms again, though it looks painful and as if they’re made of lead. 

"Learning to take a punch is just as important as throwing one. But I want to see you throw one."

"What? You want me.... to hit you?" 

Chanyeol nods and gives Kyungsoo a wink. "Yep. Make a proper fist first, yeah? Press your fingers together tight. Yeah, now curl them in. Thumb across the first two. Feels good, right?" 

Kyungsoo nods in agreement. He holds his hands a little higher, a little prouder, more confident. He visibly squares his shoulders, jaw set. 

"Alright," Chanyeol sighs, slapping at his right cheek with a smile, "Let me have it."

Perhaps Kyungsoo is still upset from the jabs Chanyeol got in earlier because he doesn't hesitate for a second like Chanyeol had assumed he would. The punch isn't hard enough to do much more than send Chanyeols head twisting, the skin right on his jaw smarting. When he turns to face Kyungsoo again, rubbing his cheek, Kyungsoo looks like he might be sick still. 

"Good start," Chanyeol compliments, "But your punches should come from the shoulder. That's where the power is."

Shaking his shoulders, Kyungsoo nods and clenches his jaw once more. A quick nod from Chanyeol lets Kyungsoo know he's ready again. 

This time, Kyungsoos punch is hard enough to give Chanyeol a bit of whiplash, his neck letting out a crick that makes his stomach roll. He's actually in a bit of shock, and the confusion lasts long enough for Kyungsoo to tackle Chanyeol to the ground. 

_Well holy shit_ , Chanyeol thinks, _this little punk’s about to beat the shit out of me_. The punches that rain down on Chanyeol are mostly weak, barely enough to sting, but there are some that are sure to leave a bruise. Instinctively, Chanyeol covers his face with his forearms to protect himself, still too shocked to do much else. Kyungsoo is punching anywhere he can reach, ugly, desperate noises skipping from his mouth. 

Chanyeol can see Kyungsoo's face from between his arms, can see how pathetic and anguished he looks. His glasses have been thrown off in the commotion, letting Chanyeol see just how wild and desperate his eyes really are. Fists bang against Chanyeols ribs, winding him, and as much as he wants for Kyungsoo to let out all of his anger and mortification and sorrow, the pain is winning out. 

Quickly, he tightens his knees around Kyungsoo’s hips and twists, using his size to his advantage to throw Kyungsoo off of him and to the ground. Their positions reversed, Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo’s wrists and finally pins them to the ground too. The both of them are panting - Kyungsoo from exertion and Chanyeol from pain. 

Face red and eyes shining, Kyungsoo’s mouth is twisted into a grimace. He doesn’t struggle against Chanyeol’s grip, not even slightly, his body lax. 

“You do that to him next time, you hear me?” Chanyeol says, voice low and rough. He wants to clear his throat, but the ache in his ribs keeps him from doing it. “I’m fucking hurting here.”

Kyungsoo looks even more pained at Chanyeol’s words, and the realization that he’s trying not to cry comes too late. Tears slide from the corner of Kyungsoo’s eyes and into his hair. Chanyeol lets go of his wrists and sits back on his haunches. 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol sighs, “Tell me who it is.”

Shaking his head, Kyungsoo only cries harder. 

“Okay,” Chanyeol whispers, one hand clumsily wiping at Kyungsoo’s tears, “Okay.”

“I hate him,” Kyungsoo says, sounding choked through tears and heaving breaths.

“I know.”

They stay like that for a few quiet minutes, until Kyungsoo’s tears slow and finally stop. His face is red and shining with tears and snot, so incredibly unattractive and yet Chanyeol can’t look away. Unflinchingly, Kyungsoo stares back, reaching up to wipe his face. With his eyes, Chanyeol traces the curve of his lips, the slope of his brow, and the cut of his jaw

When Kyungsoo pushes himself up so that he’s sitting, they’re so close Chanyeol can feel his breath against puffing against his chin.

“You did good,” Chanyeol smiles, and it’s returned by one of Kyungsoo’s sweet, bashful grins. 

Kyungsoo softly whispers a word of thanks, and then his chin is tilted up just enough. Chanyeol can’t look away from his lips - soft pink skin, chapped from the cold and a tiny bruise healing at the corner. Maybe Kyungsoo notices because he licks at his lips, tongue lingering for just a second too long.

It’s maddening, and then Chanyeol’s craning his head down to kiss him. It’s not a real kiss – not a _proper_ kiss – it’s honestly nothing more than a clumsy bump of flesh on flesh that lasts for a second at most. Kyungsoo pulls away so quickly it’s almost as if he’s been shocked.

“I - I’m not – ” He stammers, eyes wide and looking everywhere but Chanyeol’s face. Still caught underneath Chanyeol’s legs, there’s no place for him to go, and his body turns tense. Fight or flight. 

“You’re not what? A faggot?” A jerky nod and a soft exhale of breath. Chanyeol can feel his heart hammering away at his chest, and Kyungsoo looks nearly as terrified as Chanyeol feels. “Yeah, well… me either.”

It’s not a lie, _not really_ , because Chanyeol wasn’t - he liked girls. He loved the soft flesh of their curves, the way they smelled like a fresh spring field or like something muskier when Chanyeol was between their legs. And Kyungsoo probably liked all those things, too. 

But Kyungsoo was just _Kyungsoo_ , with his soft skin, wide eyes, deep voice, and thick lips that Chanyeol wanted to kiss again. At Chanyeol’s answer, Kyungsoo looks a little relieved and looks less like he wants to bolt or throw another fist. Gently, Chanyeol’s hands reach to cup Kyungsoo’s cheeks, warm against his chilled palms. 

Their next kiss is soft, gentle, with Chanyeol fitting Kyungsoo’s bottom lip between his own. He sucks on it for a moment, and the quiet noise that escapes from Kyungsoo’s throat has Chanyeol shivering. Again, and again, their lips part and meet, so intoxicating that Chanyeol feels like he can do it forever. 

Chanyeol kisses the corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth before trailing his lips along Kyungsoo’s jaw, letting his tongue dart against the dark skin there.

“We should head out,” Chanyeol says between kisses, “Before they get suspicious.” 

“Right.”

He spies Kyungsoo's glasses in the grass and hands them to him. Chanyeol stands and brushes at the dirt and grass on his knees - another stain his mother will no doubt chew him out for. He extends a hand to Kyungsoo, who takes it and scrambles to his feet. Kyungsoo looks like he doesn’t know what to say or do next, so Chanyeol pulls him into a hug and presses his lips to Kyungsoo’s forehead.

"Let's go," Chanyeol whispers, pulling away. He takes Kyungsoo's hand into his own, letting their fingers slip together. Kyungsoo smiles up at him and tucks both of their hands into the pocket of his jacket, tightening his grip for a second.

They can't stay like that for long, but for the moment Chanyeol's heart feels ten times larger.

***

Thanksgiving comes and goes, and winter settles in fast. By the first week of December, there's already snow on the ground, and everyone's breath comes out in white puffs that linger in the air. It means it's the end of the group's Saturday stickball routine until the weather warms up. But with Jongdae and Minseok's help, Chanyeol finally gets a heater in his old truck, and so a new Saturday tradition is born.

Every Saturday morning, Chanyeol waits in his truck a block away from Kyungsoo's house and waits. Sometimes they just head back to Chanyeol's home to read, or talk, or tangle themselves on Chanyeol's bed with their lips locked. Other days Chanyeol and Yixing will take turns helping Kyungsoo learning how to throw or take fists. 

Today isn't one of those days. Sehun over at Minseok's, they have the room to themselves. Underneath the blankets, snow falling outside, Chanyeol's head rests on Kyungsoo's chest as Kyungsoo reads out the last chapter of the book.

"So they lived in great joy, and if they ever remembered life in this world it was only as one remembers a dream. And one year it fell out - "

"Wait," Chanyeol interrupts, looking up at Kyungsoo in shock, "They don't remember living here? Like, on Earth?"

"Well, no. They were just children. They're adults now. They've been in Narnia longer than our Earth."

Chanyeol looks put out, blinking rapidly as he tries to digest what he's just heard. "Isn't that sad?"

"Is it?" Kyungsoo counters, "They get to live as happy kings and queens. On Earth, they were just kids separated from their parents because of the war."

For a moment Chanyeol considers this before he lets his head rest back on Kyungsoo's chest. "Either way, I wouldn't want to forget the life I had."

"Even if you were king?"

His eyes hold Kyungsoo's, and it makes Kyungsoo's breath catch in his chest. Voice serious, Chanyeol nods. "Even if I was king."

Kyungsoo had always thought the opposite – that if he could have the world, he would give up his memories in a heartbeat. But now, staring down at Chanyeol, he thinks about all of the good memories he'd be giving up too. He wouldn't remember any of the Saturdays he spent with him playing ball, shooting guns, or throwing fists. He would forget the feel of Chanyeol curled around him, of his lips pressed against Kyungsoo's neck.

"Me too," Kyungsoo whispers, heart swelling as Chanyeol's face transforms into a smile. Chanyeol shuffles forward so he can press their lips together, still smiling against Kyungsoo's mouth. Delicately, he pushes up Kyungsoo's glasses with his forefinger. 

"Finish the chapter," Chanyeol demands as he settles again, sighing happily and pressing his fingers against the skin of Kyungsoo's belly.

“Okay.”

***

****

**EPILOGUE**

A soft tapping on the glass of his window draws Kyungsoo’s attention. Outside, Chanyeol is crouching on the narrow ledge. His hair in a flop, it’s warm enough that he’s wearing old blue jeans and a faded white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled to his shoulders. He smiles when he makes eye contact, and motions for Kyungsoo to hurry and open the window.

Chanyeol had discovered the way up to Kyungsoo’s window in the early spring. A lattice around the back of the house let him shimmy along the ledge that went along the perimeter of the house to Kyungsoo’s bedroom window. He had come into Kyungsoo’s room this way about a half dozen times since then and miraculously had never been discovered by Kyungsoo’s father or step-mother, or any of his neighbors. 

“Why is your window closed, anyway?” Chanyeol grumbles when Kyungsoo finally opens it, entering the room head first. “It’s a nice day outside. You can get some fresh air.” 

“Why are you so salty?” Kyungsoo retorts before Chanyeol leans down and kisses him. Kyungsoo lets his arms loop around Chanyeol’s shoulders, finding the skin of his nape slightly damp with sweat. 

“Not salty,” Chanyeol turns them and presses Kyungsoo against his desk. He lets his tongue slip between Kyungsoo’s lips, sighing and gripping Kyungsoo’s waist when they meet. After a moment he pulls back, nips at Kyungsoo’s lower lip and says, “Just couldn’t wait to see you.” 

Kyungsoo snorts and shoves at his shoulder. It’s not hard, but Chanyeol reels as if it was, clutching at himself and laughing.

Chanyeol looks around Kyungsoo’s room, at the empty cardboard boxes that are stacked in the corner. “So?”

“Harvard, it is.”

Kyungsoo tries not to sound too bitter. Over the past few weeks, Kyungsoo had been trying to decide which university he’d be attending in the fall. His first choice was the state university only a few hours away - close enough that he could come home to visit Chanyeol when he wanted, or Chanyeol could visit him. 

But in the spring, Kyungsoo had broken his step-father’s nose in a fight, and the man wanted him gone. Long gone. 

“It’s far enough away for him, I guess. He said he’d pay for everything. But I can’t come back here.” 

“Not even during the summer?”

“No.”

Reaching out, Chanyeol lets his hands run through Kyungsoo’s hair, trying to offer some comfort. “We’ll watch out for your mom. Me and the guys.” 

“About that…” Kyungsoo steps away, feeling nervous. He plays with the spines of his books on his shelf to distract himself, his bare toes digging into the wood floor. “Harvard is in the big city. Plenty of need for handymen and mechanics. Good pay too, I think.”

Chanyeol hums. “I hate to sound like a wet rag, Soo, but you don’t want to bring your greaser boyfriend with you to school.”

“Who says I don’t?” Kyungsoo turns to face him, lower lip tight between his teeth and stomach rolling. “Besides. It’s not like you can’t go to school, too. You can work for a year or something, save some money… I can work too.” 

The look on Chanyeol’s face is stunned - full of awe and even a spark of hope. “You’re fuckin’ serious about this, aren’t you?” 

“I’m sure there are plenty of good vet schools in Boston,” Kyungsoo mumbles and shrugs, trying to look nonchalant even as his heart is racing. Chanyeol sees right through it though, swooping in and cradling Kyungsoo’s face in his hands. Though he tries not to, Kyungsoo feels himself blush, even his ears and chest tinting pink.

Chanyeol’s eyes are warm, practically sparkling as he stares down at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo thinks back to that night in autumn when he met Chanyeol by the side of the road. If either of them had known where they’d be now…

“Stop staring at me and kiss me, damn it,” Kyungsoo finally says, pulling Chanyeol flush against him by the belt loops of his jeans.

With a playful _tsk_ , Chanyeol obliges. But this kiss – this kiss is different. It tastes like love, like hope, like the fire to start something new. It had been a journey to get here, but with Chanyeol, Kyungsoo wouldn’t change it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> there's a collection of my reference pictures and files [here](https://padlet.com/switchbladefightsx/amd1pe8z43fh) (spoilers!)
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/moshimoshh)!


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